But for the Grace
by NotThereNeverAround
Summary: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

**A/N**: Thanks to **Andra-ggfan** and **Watram** for their encouragement.

* * *

><p>He heard the diner door clang in its frame and looked back as he rounded the corner.<p>

...

She had halted again on the sidewalk, biting her thumb before turning on her heel.

...

It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided.

...

"God, sorry! I'm _so _- "

"What the - !"

She felt a tight grip on her elbow, focused, frowned and wrenched her arm back. It left him looking pained. Open-mouthed. A breath in, not a word out. She puffed out a short, frustrated breath of her own and folded her arms, watching as he closed his mouth and looked skywards. He didn't see her roll her eyes then shift her weight onto one leg, setting herself firm. Implacable.

"Fine, I'll -"

"Rory, I -"

He swallowed and she shook her head, exhaling another, louder, sigh. Her palm flicked out towards him. _Speak_.

He didn't. Instead, he narrowed his eyes to look over her shoulder into the distance. She started tapping her foot while he scanned around and behind them, but the square was almost deserted. Luke's dark-suited shape entered the church.

Finally, Jess turned to fall back hard against the brick. Biting down on the inside of her lips, hers was a reluctant half-turn towards him.

"I can't take you to prom."

Her folded arms tensed.

"Merton flunked me."

Bowing her head slightly, she pinched between hard-knotted brows.

"Sorry," he ended.

She turned to fully face him, her arms falling heavily to her sides. "I don't get it, Jess. It's like you're hell-bent on - -Wait, when'd you find out?"

He shrugged. "Trying to get tickets."

"So, _all _evening. That _whole _night. And you didn't even -" She shook her head. Her voice flattened. "You should have told me."

"Yeah, well ..."

"Well what, Jess? This is ridiculous." The red coat got unceremoniously dumped over the back of a memorial bench. "I can't even - -Something like this, you ... you _tell _someone. Otherwise, what's the point? Why are we together if you're just going to shut down or ... or slink off god-knows-where? I'm supposed to keep coming to find you?"

Her shoulders rose as she spoke until she dropped them with a sigh and shook her head once more. "It doesn't fix it, Jess. Kissing me to shut me up? It doesn't _fix _it. And -" Her arm shot out and whirled back, swiping the air beside her. "What _was _that anyway? What the hell did I do to deserve that? I'm not going to ... to just -"

"Nothing! Okay? It was nothing. You didn't - -It wasn't ... anything." His voice trailed off, but it rose when he added, eyes flashing, "I was coming after you, wasn't I?"

"Oh, you were?" The faux credulity was acrid.

"No," he shot back, "I went down there to get sucker-punched. Obviously."

She tossed her head but he continued, one foot pushing him off the wall, "Why'd you talk to him anyway? I mean, come on, jeez."

"What d'you mean 'come on'? I was -"

"You _went _to him. To him, Rory."

"I did not!"

His eyes rolled and he shook his head slowly, sneering, "Your knight in shining armor."

"That's not -"

"Hey, I'm the villain, right?" A dismissive hand sliced the air. "Perfect."

"Don't act the martyr."

"I think we just established I'm the villain, remember?"

"You're Walter Mitty," she said acidly.

"Sure."

"And I didn't go to him."

"Whatever you say." He wouldn't look at her.

"Yes, I do say." She stuck out her chin and shrugged. "Fine, he got the wrong idea -"

"Creep's got an imagination," he interjected. "I'll give him that."

"I was upset, Jess. You yelled at me for - -Oh, right. I don't even _know _why, do I?" She bit her lip and the salvo stopped. Freeing it, she spoke more calmly. "It was never going to ... it wasn't right. You have to know that, don't you?"

He sighed, still not meeting her eye, and she was vehement again. "Jess, you have _got _to know -"

"'Course I _know_, " he snapped out. Then, more quietly, he struggled to shape the words. "It wasn't - -I shouldn't've ... I'm sorry, okay?"

"Well," she hesitated. Transfixed by the eyes lifted with the final words. "Then ... then okay." She was surprised at how firm she sounded.

"Okay?"

"So, ... it wasn't -" The firm tone deserted her. "It wasn't because I -"

"No. Rory, look at me." One step closer and he stooped to catch her downcast eye. "I was a jerk to ... to yell like that. At you. I get it, okay? I was pissed but not at you. You know that, right?"

She nodded.

"And I," he continued, faltering, "I didn't mean to, like -" A sigh sent up, exasperated, towards the sky. "To make you think I was, you know..."

As he stared upwards, she had been staring up at him. Steeling himself, he looked her in the eye. "Rushing stuff or whatever. Or you. You know that's not - -That I'm not trying to -"

"I know."

"Okay then," he breathed.

She wrapped her arms around herself and examined the toe of her shoe for a second. His voice called her back up. "I'm sorry, okay? For ... for all of it."

He brushed a stray hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, taking the sharp points of her elbows in his palms before gently running the length of her upper arms and settling.

She gripped the shirt on his shoulders in her fists and said, "This isn't fixed yet, Jess."

"I know."

"We need to work out what you're going to do." He nodded, watching her face. "Does Luke know?"

"Nope."

"Then we need a plan. Don't roll your eyes."

"Sorry."

"We can fix it though. But you've got to let me help. Let me in."

She shook him slightly, straining the fabric on his back until he said, "That's what you want?"

She frowned. "Don't be an idiot."

He sucked air over his lip and dropped "Ouch," with a smirk that softened her serious look and drew her hands up to fold behind his neck. He rested his on her waist and received the kiss she stepped closer to give.

Afterwards, he looked apologetic once more. "I know the prom thing was a big deal."

"I'll get over it," she replied, turning her mouth up at its corners to convince him. "And who knows, maybe Lane'll still make it, so I'll be on hair, make-up, paper-bag-for-breathing duty."

"Maybe?"

"Oh, she ... the party ... it's a long story."

"Huh."

"But as causes for cautious optimism go, a page from your deranged best friend that reads 'Prom Dave Bible Riddle Maybe' can only be good, right?"

"Sure. Why not," he said coolly. "But you don't want to go to whatever shindig's on at that fancy school of yours?

"I hadn't really ..." She paused, then smiled. "Are you asking me to my own prom?"

"Ah, jeez." He looked away and rubbed at the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess so. You asked me to mine though, so you started it. And stop grinning. You're not funny."

"I did and I am. Maybe, then. It might be nice."

"Whatever. Let me know."

But the corners dropped. "Luke might ground you."

"Or kick me out."

"He wouldn't do that," she said, furrowing her brow. "Not if he cares about you, and I know he does. We'll figure something out that'll bring him round."

There was little conviction in his tired-sounding, "If you say so."

"Jess, you've got to want to. If you don't, then -"

"No, I do. I'm just ... I don't know." The slightest of shrugs as he gave up.

She laced her fingers together at the back of his head, tilting it slightly to look him pointedly in the eye. "It'll be okay."

"Huh. I almost believe you, you know that?"

"You should."

It was a rueful half-smile she got in return, so she volunteered, "I'll talk to Luke. I mean, if you want."

"You are very persuasive," he replied with a wry look at her, pulling her closer at her waist. "But I think I can handle it."

"Well, if you can't -"

"Then you're up."

"Okay."

Its mourning closed up in its church, Stars Hollow was quiet. He kissed her.

* * *

><p>"Oh, God! I'm missing the funeral!"<p>

She had pulled back suddenly, and he laughed under his breath as he said, "Too late to sneak in now."

"Yeah, it is. Dammit, I can't believe I did that. I'm awful."

"You're not awful," he assured her wearily.

"I'm going to hell."

"See you there, then."

"It's not funny."

"So stop laughing. Jeez, Rory, show some respect."

"Stop making me laugh, you jackass. I feel terrible."

"Hey, blame me if you like. I'm already on everyone's shitlist right now. One more thing won't make a difference."

"Practical _and _gentlemanly. Who could resist?"

He smirked and, still enfolding her, leaned back slightly to look at her, saying, "Okay, so, gimme fair warning. Your mom's gunning for me right now?"

"I ... um, I haven't said much. Not about - -That we argued."

An accepting nod. His "Okay," sounded light. Unconcerned.

But her anxiety gained momentum, forcing a rush of explanation, "She knows about the fight, though. The other fight. We met Luke because of the backpack and -"

"Rory, relax, alright? Place's the size of a stamp." He shrugged. "Cop-raided party's headline news."

"Yeah," she said, but quietly. They were both silent, still loosely holding themselves together.

Finally, he spoke. "You know, she's gonna want to know where you were. Now, I mean. 'Cos you're not there. So ... you should just -" Another shrug beneath her hands. "Tell her. Luke'll want to whine to her about me not graduating anyway, so you might as well get in first."

"Yeah. Probably." Still quiet.

"You know it's okay, right?" His earnestness shaded into high-browed mock-disgust. "It's not like I don't know you two are, like, freakishly close. Now personally, it's a little weird, but -"

"Gee, thanks," she said, her eyes brighter.

"You're welcome. But, listen, what I'm trying to say is ..." He paused and scratched his temple, looking away into the distance. Levelling his gaze at her, he began again. "Look, I'm guessing you'd hate lying or whatever. To her. About ... whatever."

He read the minute compression of her lips. "Yeah, thought so. So, you know ..." One shoulder shrugged it off. "Don't. I can deal." Then a sudden flare in his eyes' whites. "Unless she knows kung fu. Does she know kung fu?"

"Nope." Smiling now.

"Okay," he let out in an exaggerated breath. "Then I can handle it."

"You think you could take her?"

"I think I could duck. A lot. Hey, be my human shield? Pay's good."

"Okay, but she's scrappy. And her nails are pretty strong. Sharp too, actually."

"Great," thudded out dully. "Forewarned is forearmed, I guess."

"She'll calm down," she said, tips of her fingers moving assuringly on his back.

"Yeah. Right." He kicked his toe against a crack in the sidewalk, looking down. "She was always chatty with him though, wasn't she? Creep's probably filling her in on the juicy -"

"Jess, he wouldn't. At least, I don't think - -I'll set her straight, okay? She'll come around."

"Can't wait." Looking round he said, "Guess I should be minding the place, though. You want coffee?"

"You know, I really do."

A marching band struck up.

* * *

><p>On the threshold of the diner, they had turned to see Taylor rush out of the church, arms windmilling. The distraction proved fatal as a trombonist canoned into a saxophonist, setting off the inevitable chain-reaction. A misunderstanding, a misstep, and suddenly the shape of the whole thing changed. The formation began to break down, and with some final strangled notes the music died out.<p>

Taylor accosted the band-leader animatedly.

"Huh."

"Yep," said Rory, "that's pretty much all I've got, too."

They passed into the diner when Taylor started backing furtively towards the church making impotent gestures that said, at first, _I am not to blame_. Then, more frantically, _calm down_.

Jess pre-emptively flipped the sign: _Closed_. "David Lynch ever pass through this six-block psych. ward?"

"I'm starting to think he never left," she said, taking a seat at the counter.

After a few sips from the mug he'd filled, she asked, "Was it working?"

"What?"

"Well, not that you told me what's been going on with you recently -"

His eyes dropped and he scraped the counter-top with his thumb-nail.

Undeterred, she continued, "And hooray for the fall of the Iron Curtain, anyway - -But, Jess, we both know you could've done the bare minimum and just coasted until graduation if you wanted, so I'm pretty sure they couldn't flunk you unless you just weren't there. So did you skip? To work?"

"Yeah." Slight shake of his head as his eyes rolled up. "Can't believe I missed a month."

"A month?" It was a warning look from him and she added, "Sorry, but a month? What did they say?"

"Got to take the year over." Weary. Low.

"But ... I don't - -What about summer school?"

"Not enough, apparently."

"So?"

"So, I don't know." His head fell back and he said to the ceiling, "_Really _don't want to go back there."

"It might not be so bad."

The blank expression shot down at her as he said in a flat voice, "Right."

"Well, then there are other options." Her fingernails sent up tiny notes of ringing china as she thought. "You could ... transfer? Somewhere local?"

"Yeah, 'cos that worked out so well last time."

"Jess -"

"No, really. Sure places'll be begging to have me, too."

Her small mouth cinched at this, only "Hmm," escaping.

"I can hear it now," he said, and in an unmodulated voice, he spoke words he imagined for her. "Jess? Oh, he's a senior. No, in _high school_." He shook his head in disgust, breathing out, "Jesus."

"Well, my mom dropped out, and she got her GED." Her shoulders rose high as she finished, "There's that."

He sighed, one hand on the back of his neck as he stretched it painfully to one side. "Maybe," was the reply that dragged itself out.

"You should come over later. I'll look into some stuff today, and together we can draw up some ideas."

"Okay," he nodded, then winced. "Luke's out tonight."

"I'll come here then."

"Sure?"

"Sure." She smiled and he returned it, leaning an elbow on the counter.

Something caught his eye over her shoulder. "What the hell's going on over there?"

She swivelled on her seat, eyes widening. "Is that ... the casket?"

He frowned. "They're -"

"They're walking Fran round the square," she said in a hushed voice.

Dumbfounded, he quirked an eyebrow at her, half-whispering to follow her lead, "Why?"

She shrugged.

"And what's your mom doing? Is she ... is she _hitting _on the pall-bearer guy?"

"No-oo! She wouldn't! Would she?"

He shrugged.

"Maybe it's something to do with the Dragonfly," she offered, fixated on what was happening beyond the glass.

"Huh. She wouldn't sell, right?"

Rory nodded. He gestured towards the door, cocking his head. "Go find out, if you want."

"Um, _no_," she said emphatically. "Would _you _want to be associated with the ... the _scene_ that's being made by - -Oh, jeez! I'm pretending it's not happening." She turned away, lowering her head towards the counter and hiding her eyes with her hands either side of her face.

"Yeah, so Kirk's not pinned under the casket, then."

"Oh. Dear. God."

He smiled down at her, resting his chin on one hand, his elbows on the counter. She laid a hand on top of his, and he interlaced their fingers.

Outside, it was seen to that things were righted once more, and the procession got back under way. With what solemnity it could muster, it turned a solemn corner. Soon, it had passed out of sight.

Not that they noticed.

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><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. There's more (uh, a lot more) if you're interested, which I'm proofing right now. Anyway, thanks again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p>As she tore through the door of their home, Lorelai gabbled out her news about the Dragonfly, and Rory responded in the first semi-permanent pause.<p>

"Mom, that's great news," she said as Lorelai shook coffee-grounds liberally into the appliance. "I'm so happy for you and Sookie. Sounds like you pulled off quite the casket-side coup. Which, you know, I'm kinda glad I missed, but still. I'm _so _sorry I wasn't at the service."

"Oh, we'll be doing Hail Marys for months, I know, but it _is _great, isn't it? Yeah though, you weren't in the back? Where'd you get to? You liked Fran."

"I know, and I feel _so _bad. But, um, I ran into Jess. Literally. Ran into him." Her hands glanced together as illustration.

"Oh, sweetie, you okay? I'm not even going to say 'Dirty' because you do look a little pale. Your balance isn't great at the best of times - -Did you whack your head or -?"

"No, I'm fine. And that balance-beam was crooked, you saw."

"Of course it was, honey, but you fell over waiting your turn, too, remember? Anyway, did you knock him over at least? Did you aim for the solar plexus like mommy taught you?"

"Mom," she said warningly.

"No? Well, you gotta try harder next time."

"Mom!"

"What? I kid. Wait, do I? Yeah, I kid. Mostly."

Rory pressed on. "We had a fight the other night, Mom. Jess and I. But -"

"I thought Jess and Dean had the fight?"

"One kind of ... spilled into the other."

Lorelai wound the air in her hand and said, "Right, so?"

Rory's deep breath gave Lorelai time to deepen her frown a fraction, but she relayed her own news firmly. "He's not graduating because he skipped too many days. They kicked him out." Lorelai sighed, but Rory continued, determined to tell it all before her mother started. "Summer school's not enough. He'd have to take the whole year over again. So -"

"So, you chewed him out about it at the party?"

"No. I didn't even know." Her narration gathered pace. "But he was moody all night, and he wanted to leave, and then he disappears because he's Jess and that's what Jess does - -And so help me he needs to cut that out because - -Ugh. So I'm looking for him everywhere, and then _finally _I find him in the ... in a bedroom."

"Oh-kay." Lorelai stretched the word to breaking point, resting her chin on her thumb and pressing her finger into her cheek. It would leave a mark.

"And he still wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but we kissed and - -And nothing happened but," she hesitated long enough for Lorelai to be concerned.

"Rory, you can tell me. Please, kid. Be honest."

"But it was maybe getting there. He ... I thought maybe ... You put the key on my belt." Huffing as she devolved into a non sequitur.

Lorelai's "Ah," elongated pointedly in the air between them.

"So we stopped, but he was upset and -"

"Because you wouldn't have sex with him? Rory, that's -"

"No, it wasn't that. I mean, I thought it was that, but -"

"But what, Rory? Don't make excu-"

"We _both _yelled, Mom! I yelled, he yelled, it was awful. Okay, he should've known it wasn't ... that it wasn't the right time. Or place, but -"

"Exactly."

"But he was hurting! He couldn't tell me he failed because maybe he thought I'd ... I don't know. I don't _know _why," she shrugged out. "He's _so _proud. And I yelled at him and said there was something wrong with him, and I hurt him more."

"Rory, -" Lorelai tried to speak, but her daughter didn't slow down.

"I'm not saying it was my fault. And he should've told me what's going on with him - -I didn't deserve to get yelled at -"

"Wow, finally, we agree."

"You weren't there! He knows he shouldn't've been mad at me."

"Again, with the agreement."

"He's sorry."

"They always are."

"God! Aren't you listening? He was miserable! _Is _miserable. Luke might kick him out. He thinks - -I think he thinks he let me down, maybe. And Luke. That everyone was right about him."

"Well, hon, maybe -"

"He's got nothing, Mom. Don't you - -I mean, of all people -"

"Rory, -" Lorelai shook her head, but Rory didn't accept it.

"He's flunking school, thinks he's disappointed everyone - -That he's got no options. He screwed up, and he knows it. Can't you sympathise?"

Lorelai took a deep breath and shrugged. "Rory, even if I could -"

"You should," said her daughter, pointedly folding her arms.

"- -Even if I could, it sounds like he was a jerk to you. In a bedroom. Then got in a fight with your ex that pretty much trashed the place. Rory, I can't just let that go. That's where the capital-m Mom-Instinct kicks in."

"Dean started it," Rory said a little sullenly.

"Tsch. Come on, Rory, you're -"

"You think I'd _lie_?" Rory broke out. "I'm not lying, Mom. Dean got the wrong idea about what happened I guess, and I tried to stop him, but he went after Jess like Cujo and just -"

"Bit him?"

"Hit him," said Rory flatly.

Lorelai took a moment and looked meaningfully at her daughter when she said, "That's really how it happened?"

"Yes. Jess was coming after me to apologise but ... well, Dean's kind of a sore point."

"Really? Who'da thunk it?"

"Yeah, so ... seeing me talking to Dean ... he just walked away."

"And Dean hit him?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"Mom -"

"No, just - -Sorry I missed it. Sounds like quite a show."

"You're hilarious."

"Booked Friday for Letterman."

"To coincide with the tour?"

"And let me tell you, it's sold out."

The atmosphere lightened as Rory rolled her eyes theatrically and Lorelai mimed the slightest of bows before they broke into smiles.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"He's not rushing me," said Rory, quiet but firm.

Lorelai's voice was soft in its concern when she said, "I don't know, babe. It doesn't sound that way."

"It's true, Mom. I'm being honest with you, aren't I? So you have to trust me -"

"You, I trust."

"_I _trust _him_. And you have to trust me to trust him. We're not ... we've talked about it, okay?"

"You have?"

"A little."

"Well, that's good, I guess. Do you ... have, like, plans? Or -"

"No. Except, you know. The obvious."

"Barry White?"

"No, the other thing."

"Ah. Safety measures."

Rory nodded, her lips compressed in a flat smile.

"Well ... good," said Lorelai. "That's good."

Rory's "Yeah," climbed the register, searching for artificial lightness. "Good."

The pair paused before Lorelai almost changed the subject, asking, "So, does that mean no prom?"

Rory visibly relaxed her shoulders. "Jess asked if I wanted to go to Chilton's instead."

"And?"

A shrug but a smile as she said, "We might. But I got a patented Lane Kim fifteen second phonecall about an hour ago, and apparently the Bible riddle was a Shakespeare riddle, so Lane Dave Prom Go."

"Oh, that's _so _great! Man, me and Sookie need to get in on that power of prayer stuff, don't we?"

"To be forgiven for bargaining at a funeral?"

"That. And many things, really," said Lorelai, making a performance of a wistful look. "But mainly for the Dragonfly to have nice dry foundations."

"And for that, I'm pretty sure you're beyond Lane's help. Maybe God's."

"Probably," was the chipper reply. "But I get a warm glow from your judgement, so I'd call it even."

Rory adopted a thoughtful look, elaborately tapping her lips with one finger as she said, "Was I attempting to relay some information a while back? I could've sworn words were -"

"Fine," conceded Lorelai, throwing up her hands. "Go on. Communicate away."

"Well, if Lane Dave Prom Go, I'm damned if I'm not discharging my BFF responsibilities, including, but not limited to, Bringer of Many Bobby-pins."

"Aww, that'd be nice."

"Yeah. I figured I could help her get dressed, take photos, practice dancing. You know."

"Oh, could you two be any cuter! I so want pictures of you doing that. And you know it's not for blackmail because I have so many of those already."

"Yes, Mom. Lane and I are aware of the dossier."

"And all you have to do to stop it falling into the wrong hands is to tell me everyday I'm a pretty pretty princess."

"Looking good again today, Mom."

"Thanks, sweetie! I should disgrace myself at funerals more than once a month, shouldn't I?"

"Reach for those stars."

"Okay, so you'll get me those blackmail - -Sorry, _not_-blackmail pictures, and you'll let me know ...?" Two sets of eyebrows crept up like a mirror-image. "If you need a dress?"

"I will," Rory nodded briskly. Lorelai patted her shoulder as she got up to find two mugs. Rory thought for a moment, then ventured, "Mom?"

"Yep."

"Can you tell me all the stuff you had to do to get your GED?"

The pot lingered in mid-air. "For Jess?"

"Yeah."

"Sure," she nodded slowly. "Okay."

"I, um, thought I'd go over there later. Talk through his options."

Setting down the drinks, Lorelai said breezily, "Options. Right."

"I don't want him to just - -I mean, he's _got _options. But if he feels ... maybe rushed or - -We shouldn't rush him," she said, shaking her head. "He's skittish."

"Like the Yearling."

"I don't want him to bolt."

"I know you don't. And no giant mushroom cloud on the horizon recently, so he still needs to tell Luke?"

Rory nodded. Anxious eyes and a tight almost-smile. "I offered to help."

"You're a sweet kid, you know that?" The remark widened the smile slightly, and Lorelai propped her cheek on her fist. "You really care about this guy, don't you?"

"I do," said Rory, broadening unwittingly into a genuine grin.

Lorelai couldn't quite suppress her sigh, but made up for it in the cheeriness of her injunction, "Well, start drawing up the Pro/Con list, then."

"Let me grab my ruler."

* * *

><p>Rory sat at a table in the diner with her laptop open and papers spread in front of her as Jess cleared one of the others.<p>

"Okay," she said, pushing herself up from her seat, "I'm going to go liberate my copy of _Player Piano._ You," pointing at him and affecting command, "Sit and read this, and tell me what you think. Oh, and I'm making fresh coffee when I get back."

He acknowledged her with a nod. "Bring down another CD if you want."

"I get to choose?"

"Depends on what you pick."

"I veto your veto."

"Yeah, yeah." He flapped a hand at her as she disappeared up the stairs.

...

When she returned, she wafted fast through the curtain, the Vonnegut clamped under her arm and inspecting the CDs weighed in each hand. "So, Replacements or Sebadoh? What mood - -Jess? What's the matter?"

He was sitting, but not at her paper-strewn table. And he looked stunned.

"You just missed Jimmy. I'd have introduced you, but ..."

It hung unended.

"I don't ... who's ...?"

He stood, picking up the mug - - half-full of cold, old coffee - - and set it on the counter. Snatched up a rag to take a swipe at the surface.

"My father," he glossed for her, its evenness hollow.

CDs and novel clattered onto the nearest table. "Your dad?" she said, taking a couple of steps closer. "Jimmy, your dad?" Arrested herself at arm's length behind him. "He's here?"

"He _was_."

To the back of his head she stuttered out, "But ... how come?"

He shrugged. Passing the cloth back and forth in front of the mug. Metronomic.

"Oh, Jess."

She laid a hand on his shoulder and he stilled. Pulling gently, she turned him towards her, but he wouldn't meet her eye. Her hands skated fast up both arms and were clasped at the back of his neck as she pressed her cheek to his. Exhaling noisily, he roughed palms against his jeans before wrapping his arms around her waist.

Quietly, he said, "Luke knows he's here."

She was silent.

"Guess it just slipped his damn mind, right?"

Listening still when he drew back and broke out, "What's he doing here, anyway? Why would he - -Why now?"

"I don't know," she offered finally. "I'm sorry."

"And where does Luke get off just not even ..." Words couldn't make it through the rising fury. He shut his mouth on them.

"I don't know," she said, setting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Little warning's too much to ask, obviously."

"Did you ... want to find him? Go after him, maybe?"

"Nah. He's got nothin' to say."

"What _did _he say? I mean, if you -"

"Nothing. Literally nothing."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." He swallowed. "You gotta stop."

Perplexed, she said, "I - -What?"

"Saying you're sorry. I can't -"

"Okay," she breathed. Past his neck and soft.

He pressed his nose further into the hair above her ear, and the long hot breath prickled her scalp. Laying a kiss on his jaw's hinge, she felt a hand lift off her back. Thumb and forefinger dug into his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The hand settled gingerly on the back of her head.

She forced herself to ask, "Do you want me to go?"

He took her face in both his hands and kissed her.

Tender.

Urgent.

Desperate.

And when he tore his mouth away she was breathless as his forehead came to rest against hers. She waited, her eyes straining to focus on the closed lids of his.

Waiting.

He said, "D'you ... - -You gotta be somewhere?"

"No."

Waiting.

"So come up," he said. "If you want." He put six inches between their faces to take her in with a searching look. "Not to - -Just, let's get out of here, alright?"

She nodded. Gripped tighter the hand she held. Felt him do the same.

Followed.

Blinking and trying not to stumble. A hasty cotton sleeve.

* * *

><p>Upstairs, they sat on the couch-edge. He with his forehead propped on steepled fingers, elbows on his knees; she, hugging herself, contemplating the coffee-table's detritus. Pipe-rack and newspapers. Stubs of two pencils. Biro cap. Stack of pennies. Rubber band. Twin unopened sodas.<p>

_Why does Luke have a pipe-rack? His dad's maybe. A relic._

Fingertips then palm alighted on his back, and she forced a small smile when he gave her a sidelong look. His mouth quirked one corner, arm snaking round and pulling her close until her head lay on his shoulder. He rested his own against it, staring into the apartment.

"Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"What should I say?"

"Beats me."

"Are you ... okay?"

"Me?"

"Yes. I can't think. I don't know what to say. I want to -"

The kiss in her hair brought her up short, and she looked up slowly. Keen like maybe irises had clues in their microdots. Instead, a steadying touch beneath her jaw that drew her into the onrush and found her reaching around his neck.

He held her so tightly she squeaked.

But when his arms slackened in response, the heels of her hands pressed hard on his shoulder blades. A suppressed wince from two-days-old bruises that hadn't surfaced yet. Left her mouth to kiss her nose. Cheek. Chin. Temple.

She ran fingertips down the inside of his collar, the skin there smooth and tender. Undid the button at the base of his throat and heard him sigh.

He brought them nose to nose, eyes lowered and stroking through the lengths of her hair. A deep breath made it eye to eye. But it was she who spoke.

"Jess, it'll still be okay. We can ... I mean -"

"I love you."

Her eyes widened, finding his had dropped away. "Wh- Jess -"

"Sorry."

"What? What for?"

"This. All this." Amassed with a shoulder's jerk. "And I'm pissed off and messed up and it's all just -"

"Jess, -"

"So you don't ... you don't have to -"

"Jess, I do. I love you. Of course I do." Fingers in his hair closed slightly at the roots by way of emphasis.

A half-swallowed, "Okay." Its barest corner's lift of smile. Flicker from her mouth to her still-grave look.

"And we'll get through this. I promise."

"I almost believe you."

Nose-tip as punctuation.

Hers drew over the bridge of his to underline, "I am _very _persuasive."

Her grin kindled into a quiet burst of laughter from both of them, and they relaxed, shifting to sit back. Rory curling her legs under her; Jess, an arm around her shoulders, propping feet on the coffee-table.

Then, some minutes' close-to-silence. The rebounding spring of a short kiss. Free hands' fingers laced. Unlaced for the stretch of a longer.

Until, "Luke's with Nicole?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"When's he due back ... d'you think?"

He shrugged. "Eleven-thirty, maybe? Midnight?"

"How late is it?"

"10.17"

She got up and stood in front of him. His shoulders slumped as he dragged himself to sit forward at the edge of the couch, rubbing his forehead wearily. She put out her hand and he took it, getting to his feet and following her to the door.

"I'll walk you," he volunteered. She shook her head but said nothing. "No?"

"Does it lock?"

"What?"

"The door."

He frowned in consternation. "Uh, yeah. Key's on the frame. Sorta a habit he has."

She reached up, turned the key in the door, and led him towards his bed.

"Rory?"

She sat on the edge and said, "Sit, okay?" as she toed off her shoes.

"Okay."

The confusion of the whole night made him submissive. Waiting.

"Jess, I ... it'll be soon, okay? Not now - -Tonight. But if ... if you still want, soon."

Her voice had dropped, and his dropped further. "Okay." Not spoken so much as breath moving through two syllables.

She continued, "Right now, I just ... I want to be ... close. If that's ...?"

He nodded. "C'mere," he said and raised his arm for her to tuck herself under it.

They lay down together, her head by his shoulder, palm resting in the centre of his chest. He shifted onto his side, smoothing a hand on her hip and moulding her closer.

"This is nice," she said quietly, curling fingers into his hair.

Another nod but his face was serious, without the rare dopey grin she'd see when they were alone like this. But grin or no her lips were there, the hand she trailed down over his shoulder blades pressing him nearer. The same that slowly crept beneath his shirt, skimming her palm over the plane of his back then drawing her index finger down the furrow of his spine. He clutched her more tightly at her waist, their hips compressed until she inched her knee over his, her foot on his calf. His leg slipped between hers, and the pressure made her gasp into his mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. (There really is a pipe-rack on the coffee-table in 3.14. Go figure.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p>Jess had walked her home, but when Luke arrived his nephew sat at the kitchen table, temple pressed onto his fist and frowning down at papers spread in front of him. Circling something on a legal-pad.<p>

"Hey," said Luke, dropping keys on the table. "Close up alright?"

"Hear you talked to my father last night."

"How -? Oh, jeez." Luke looked heavenward. "He came by? What am I saying, 'course he did. I tell him 'Stay away,' but no, he's -"

"Slipped your mind, huh?" Icy still.

"I didn't want him here, Jess. You've got enough goin' on," Luke said, gesturing at the table's litter of lists. "You don't need this."

"No, I _don't_," Jess snapped_._ "But you -" He took a deep breath. With effort, he finished more calmly, "A heads up mighta been good, still."

"But -" Luke's features hardened. But the flicker went out with an audible sigh, and the lines unset. "Okay, fine. Maybe you're right," he said, suddenly exhausted. "You ... alright?"

"I'll live."

Luke jammed a finger in his tie-knot and tugged hard to loosen it as he asked, "What d'he say?"

"Nothin'."

"Nothing?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh, Jimmy, whatta prince."

"Whatever. I'll get over it, but ..." Jess trailed off.

"What?"

"I ... I'm not - -Look, they kicked me out, so -"

"Wh -? The school?" A nod. "What!-? Jess, you're kidding, right? We had an agreement."

"I know, but -"

"I knew it."

"Hey, hear me out, okay? I ... I screwed up, but I'm handling it, alright? Rory's looked at some stuff and - -And I don't know," he shrugged. "They want me to take the year over." Quieter as defense broke down into explanation.

"The whole year?"

"Yeah," Jess dropped in a breath. He brought down on its point the pen he'd been fiddling with, speaking more quickly, "And I don't know what yet, but I'll figure something out. Maybe get my GED, 'cos I am _not _going back to that place."

"Jess, you better figure something out 'cos you're making me look a moron here. Hell, I know I'm not father of the year or anything, but I'm doing my best. You gotta gimme a break."

"A break, huh? Sure, whatever. - -But hey, if I hook you up, you think I can catch one of those maybe? 'Cos this is all pretty craptacular where I'm standin' as well, you know?"

Luke shrugged off his jacket with a dismissive, "Yeah, yeah," then pulled up a chair at the kitchen table opposite his nephew. "So, what happened?"

Jess glanced at the door. Focused on the spot where he touched pen to paper. Once. Twice. Again. "I didn't think I missed that much."

"I thought you said it was under control?"

"I thought it was. I don't know, alright?" He met Luke's questioning look for a second, then looked down at the papers in front of him. "I don't know."

"Jeez, Jess, this is ..." Luke paused and leaned forward to try to catch his nephew's eye, his palms open in front of him. "I don't want you working at Walmart for the rest of your life, for crying out loud."

Jess's eyes snapped up. "Really? 'Cos it's my dream."

"Hey. Don't be smart with me just yet."

"Fine."

Luke softened again slightly to say, "I want you on the right path."

"Got a map?"

"Jess -"

"Yeah, I know: shut up. Think I'd settle for a friggin' signpost right now."

"It's not always easy."

"You're telling me."

"And your dad dying kinda sucks as a signpost, take it from me."

"Well ... yeah." Jess looked back at Luke with a slight nod, his eyebrows climbing a little. "Can't argue with that."

"Wow," Luke said drily, sitting back and folding his arms. "I shoulda taped that for posterity."

Jess's fingers lifted off the table an inch. "Can't win 'em all."

"Right. Anyway, I had no clue 'til then. Just worked in the store, looked after my dad, worried about your mom. Rinse. Repeat. And then I just fell into it. All this," Luke said, making a vague flap at their surroundings. "And it felt right. Hey, maybe I should be slicing open some guy's brain or putting up shelves in the space station with Vladimir, but I don't think so, and I feel lucky. Some days anyway."

Luke looked into the middle distance. "Days without Taylor. Or Kirk. Or those damn freaky - -Anyway, what I'm saying is you're smart, Jess. Luck shouldn't come into it for you, you know? And god knows your luck stinks."

"So ... you're not kicking me out?" That half-hopeful look Luke had seen before.

"Sure, 'cos that'd really be a load off my mind, wondering where the hell you are like I did your mom all those years." He wagged a finger as he continued, "Don't think I haven't thought about it just for the half a day's relief before I started tearing my hair out. But you gotta get a plan, I'm - -Don't laugh, Jess, this is serious."

"I'm not." It was more of a release of breath, plosive-sounding as he ground his thumb into the hollow of his temple, shading his eyes down at the table. "S'just what Rory said, that's all."

"Well, I guess if she's in your corner you got a chance at least. Things are okay with her? I figured the fight with Dean -"

"We're good," came with a deliberately blank look.

"Good." That warning finger. "Don't mess this up, Jess. Any of it."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Jess -"

"Jeez, I won't, alright?"

"And you gotta cut me some slack here. Make it easier on the both of us, okay?"

"Okay, okay, whatever."

"About Jimmy -"

"I really don't -"

"Sure. That's okay," Luke said, scraping his chair back. "You eaten?"

* * *

><p>Luke had made grilled cheese despite Jess's protestations, and they sat in front of Sports Center. Jess crumbled the sandwich into shards and ate a few, while Luke drank a beer and popped the occasional walnut absentmindedly.<p>

"So he's staying in town?" Jess hadn't taken his eyes off the screen.

"Who, Jimmy?" Luke said, looking round. "Yeah. Why, you wanna see him?"

Still watching TV, Jess shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe."

"I guess it's your right. He could be gone though."

"Maybe."

"I just ... I figured you didn't need another distraction."

Jess glanced at his uncle. "I get it." The screen.

Luke too turned back to the TV. "Said he lives in California."

"Huh."

"Yeah. He was at the North Motel."

"Huh."

"You could call."

Jess shrugged.

* * *

><p>Rory had gone to bed with her mind racing, her heart at its heels, and her blood out in front leading both.<p>

Nothing had happened.

Or rather, nothing had happened that hadn't happened before.

Or, if it was new, it was because his hands had stalled on her, weighed down by everything that had passed. Acutely aware of her injunction. Not wanting to press or push in case ... just in case. Until hers became bold to trace redrawn boundary-lines, delimiting for both of them the scope of now. And so now his followed. Now, up against soon and straying as close as it could. Up against time and the constraint of space but feeling nearer now than ever.

The headlong rush made everything fast. But fast locks had keys and so did Luke, so nothing was fast. Things undone so easily. So much as yet undone. Futures' uncrossed Start/Finish lines on the horizon.

Some things said and not a little unsaid, but about Jimmy on the walk home she'd told him hesitantly, "This ... it's - -I won't tell, Jess. You know that, don't you? That you can trust me?"

He'd wryly observed that he could use all the pity-points he could get right now if she thought Lorelai would go easier on him, but in truth he was still conscious of putting Rory in an awkward position by asking her to keep secrets from her mother. Not when everything seemed so overcharged right now. Not with so much at stake.

In the event, when she told Lorelai what little she knew over half a bag of marshmallows and a repeat screening of Kevin Bacon's angry-dance, she had been as aghast as Rory had expected; maybe a little moved, which she hadn't.

But Rory convinced herself the other decisions she'd come to weren't for late-night discussion. And then the morning came with its rush of lost shoes and curling irons, and it didn't seem like a broad-daylight talk to have either.

* * *

><p>The post-breakfast lull found Jess above the diner.<p>

"North Motel. Can I help you?"

"You got a Jimmy Mariano there?"

"Checked out this morning."

"Right."

_Figures._

* * *

><p>So it plagued her wandering thoughts all day in classes where teachers talked about finals and handed out past papers, and students whispered their plans for prom and after-parties.<p>

Double-spacing. Writing on both sides of the page. Guidelines and rules. Limos and lakehouses. Nerves, calming them. That practice makes perfect. The crucial importance of timing.

But she caught herself thinking in circles too and shook herself mentally more than once. Sound of Jess's breath in her ear. Dark eyes fixed on hers and serious. His fast fingertips. Then, inevitably, her mind's eye conjured Lorelai's too-understanding face, waiting for Rory to speak.

So she made the resolution to talk it over as soon as Lorelai returned from the inn, though she spent the bus ride back in the same uneasy reverie and wasn't any more at ease once the two had sat down and channel-surfed during the story about Michel and the bran muffin.

There was no speech prepared, but Rory finally sought to break the stream of consciousness and pull it out through her mouth somehow. She pictured it like a magician's knotted silk scarves, and it was making her feel just about as sick.

"So, um, Mom?"

"Yeah, hon?"

"I think ... I think ..."

"Therefore you are?"

"I think Jess and I might ..." Palpable ellipsis transparent. "After finals."

"Oh." Remote in hand, Lorelai reached out blindly towards the TV and killed the sound. "So, you're ... you're scheduling?"

"Kinda."

"Right. Huh. Um, so ...?"

"So, I thought I should say. That I should tell you. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Oh, yeah. I - -It's fine."

"So, ..." Rory paused.

"So, you want to know ... something?"

"I, um, I think I've got the basics down, but ... I, um ..."

"Okay, Rory? Regroup. Deep breath. Go."

"Where?"

"_Where_?"

"Yeah, because a motel seems kind of seedy, and Luke'd freak if, well, you know - -And here's just -"

"You can - -Here's fine."

"Here?"

"Well, not here, like, on the couch, but -"

"Mom!"

"Rory, I am this close to hyperventilating, so don't knock me off my stride, okay?"

"Okay. Sorry. Go."

"I want you safe, and, yes, a motel's kind of seedy - -Well, not always but, you know, for this. And as for Luke, there's just no knowing because, well, he's Luke, so -" She took a deep breath. "I probably need to start going over Dragonfly-stuff with Sookie and, boy, do we get drunk when we do math, except, um, Sookie's _pregnant_, so I guess I'll be drinking for two but whatever: it's pretty likely I'll be crashing there some nights. And god knows I am totally on board for scheduling a few, now the thing with Alex is - -Eh, who knows? Not me, that's for sure. But anyway, I could do that. Maybe. Or something."

Rory took up the baton immediately, saying just as quickly, "I don't know what to say to that."

"That's okay I think."

"Okay."

"I could talk to Luke," Lorelai offered. "Do I want to talk to Luke? How would I talk to Luke? Ever, ever again?"

"That's okay, really."

"Couldn't Jess talk to Luke?"

"He's kind of ... on thin ice over there." Their pace was slackening as the tension dissipated.

"Right."

"The topic will be broached, though. Eventually."

"Before you and Jess are on Golden Pond?"

"Maybe, right before."

"Well, ... then I'm down with the scheduling, babe."

"Good."

"So, um, Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to say about a dozen things real quick, okay? You've heard 'em all before."

"Okay."

"So." Lorelai took a deep, long breath before rapping out, "It might be uncomfortable, but it's not supposed to hurt. If it hurts, stop."

"Got it."

"It might not feel great. At least, at first. Probably weird, even. But it can be great, and it should be great, and not everybody's first time _isn't _great, but my main point is pretty much relax."

"Okay."

"Then relax some more."

"Right."

"Take your time, you know?"

"Um ..."

"- -And remember to breathe. That's me right now and you whenever."

"Agreed."

"And talk. Before. During. After. What's good, what's bad, whatever. He should ask, but tell him anyway."

"Okay."

"Don't drink."

"Roger that."

"Dirty."

"Mom!"

"Hah! And come on, you know this one, kid. Say it with me. Make sure -"

"Make sure he suits up, yes. I know, Mom."

"Questions?"

"None right now," Rory replied, a bigger smile echoing her mother's, as with so much else.

"Great. Good. But before I pass out, any thoughts on this prom dress at all?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. Next chapter's up too, if you're interested, because it's the same day and why not?

_At nine o'clock, Jess arrived with three kinds of leftover pie ... _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p>At nine o'clock, Jess arrived with three kinds of leftover pie, and though Lorelai told them to commandeer the living room because she had toenails to paint, Rory said all the stuff they needed was laid out on her desk, so the pair had ensconced themselves in her room. Lorelai ran a bath and put in headphones, not sure if the warm water and cinnamon bubbles could compensate in the work of de-stressing for the choice, and volume, of Metallica.<p>

After dragging herself out of the kiss he caught her in when the door closed, Rory had sat Jess at her desk, pushing him down by his shoulders, deaf to his muttering. She took guard behind his chair, reaching past him to click through bookmarked sites of flowcharts and bulletpoints, switching between windows to the digest she'd made of the research. With her arms round his neck, she rested her chin on his shoulder as he read through some of what she'd written.

He gave up the fight against her welcome but unwitting distraction when he got to the end of her summary and turned to kiss her cheek, lifting her hands from where they hung on his chest and twisting in his seat until he drew her to stand between his knees. She craned down towards his mouth with her fingers in his hair, while his were free to roam behind her, exploring the angle she made.

When he stood and clutched her closer, she felt the familiar thrill shot through with an edge of panic. But he was still, and it was she who took the first clumsy step backwards towards her bed. He followed, and when she disengaged herself to sit high against the headboard with her feet wide but her knees closed, lax arm outstretched towards him, he reached for some papers off her desk and ranged them like fanned cards at the foot of the bed before negotiating the uneasy terrain.

Kneeling, the attitude of supplication not lost on him. Not caring. Coaxing the unclosure.

* * *

><p>Later, rather than attempt the undignified feat of reclasping it, she performed that famous feminine trick of pulling the undone bra out of a sleeve, which never failed to astound him. Stuffed it under a pillow, and shifted over as he took up her former position at the bed's head. With a little awkward clambering, she sat between his outstretched legs, resting her back against his chest.<p>

He twined the bowed-drawstrings of her sweatpants around his fingers, and it mesmerised her in the silence as she rubbed her thumbs over the moving bones in his wrists.

It took her by surprise when he spoke.

"So, I called the motel. He's gone."

She tried to catch the flinch as she blinked herself out of her train of thought. Swallowing forcibly, she reached back to graze his jaw with her palm and finally managed to say, "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No biggie."

"So, what're you ...?"

She felt him shrug, and Rory thought for a moment before saying, "Did Luke say ...?"

"What?"

"Anything, I guess. Does he know ... just, anything?"

"Said he lives in California."

"Well, it's a start. Maybe we can ... - -We could find out where he lives, maybe."

"Yeah, I don't know."

She twisted to try and see his face, laying her hands on his at her waist. "Do you want to see him? Talk to him?"

He looked down at her for a second, then stared over her head at the bookshelves on her wall. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Ask him why he came?"

He shrugged again.

She persisted, getting a crick in her neck from trying to look him in the eye. "You could go. To visit. It's nearly summer."

"How's your Europe-trip shaping up, anyway?"

"Jess."

"What?"

"You're changing the subject," she said, turning away and softly jolting her back into his chest.

"I'm not. We're talking about summer."

She looked up at him again and found him staring down at her. "Will you?" she pressed.

"What, go see him?" He reached to enclose her folded arms with his. "I don't know, Rory. Guy had, like, two words to say to me."

Her eyes widened, softening. "I thought you said he didn't say anything."

"Apparently, I 'look different.' Earth-shattering insight, right?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. So ..." He paused.

"Okay," she said, breaking the strain and shifting to uncross her arms from beneath his. Stretching backwards, she interlaced her fingers at the nape of his neck, and he tightened his hold on her, a forearm against the lifted undersides of her breasts. She took a long, slow breath in and heard him do the same.

Not so much the sigh but the muted thunk of his head knocking back against the headboard called her back to reality for the second time. More so when he said,"Look, I'll ... I'll let you know, okay? I'm trying to ... I gotta think."

"Sure," she said quickly. "That's fine. I know this is - -It must be hard, I know. On you. But you can talk to me, you know? Please, Jess. I don't want - -Just talk to me, please?"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I will, alright?" he said, and kissed above her ear like it sealed a promise.

"Okay."

"It'll make you happy, right? I get some kind of tradable credit?"

"You need hope, so I'll say yes."

"Hope. Right. That's what I need."

"Well, how about you get a sympathetic ear from your brilliant and helpful girlfriend, _and _you make her happy?"

"Sounds okay."

"Just okay? What if said girlfriend says she knows you don't _just _need hope," Rory said, more easily because he couldn't see her eyes. "And neither does she. She wants to be happy, and she wants you to be happy too, and that's what's going to happen if she has anything to do with it. "

"Huh. In that case," he replied in a low voice, bringing his mouth near her ear, "the talking and hope stuff seems much more attractive."

"Good," she said, glad he could probably only feel the heat of her blush and not see the colour.

"Okay then," reverberated somewhere in his throat as he unwound his hold on her, hands drifting.

* * *

><p>She had craved the pie a little later and had taken some to Lorelai, still closeted upstairs. It was a show of good faith a la mode with a side of fresh coffee, and Lorelai took it with good grace, trying to keep her concern off her face until she watched her daughter leave.<p>

Rory found Jess still hunched over his, chipping away at the crust as she sat down facing him and crossed her legs, pie-plate balanced on her knee. With a mouthful hastily swallowed, she narrated Madeline and Louise's quest to coordinate their dates with their dresses and the ultimatum Louise had issued hers to dye a shade darker or be replaced. To Rory's remark that highlights might suit him, he'd exhaled a weary breath that resembled a laugh and looked out at her from under his lashes briefly. Reclaimed by the spoon-dents in the pastry whose number kept growing.

"You're quiet," she said over the rim of her coffee mug.

"Huh. Sorry."

"It's okay."

She sipped and watched him ease a spoonful of filling out from the crust, only to drop it back on the plate and shove himself backwards to say, "I'm pissed off, you know?"

"Okay."

"Guy's a frigging coward."

"Seems like it."

"I mean, who does that? 3000 miles for a Bowie song and a dozen cups of coffee?"

"A dozen? When?"

"Day after the party, guy moves in at a table for, like, an ice age. Doesn't say a word, doesn't open a menu, even. Just acts all weird and keeps chugging back coffee. Hilarious, right? Mysterious, indecisive loser turns out to be Jimmy Mariano: _the _mysterious indecisive loser."

"Well, at least you know why. He wanted to see you."

His eyebrows knotted as he asked incredulously, "What? Watch me wait tables? Tell people 'Ham's off'?"

"Maybe he didn't know what to say. Didn't want to disturb you working."

"Disturb me? Whole thing's pretty damn disturbing, don't you think? Why now, for Christ's sake? I could have finals or whatever. Be stressed out like you." A bitter laugh. "Lucky I flunked out, I guess."

"You _are _stressed out," she said, setting down her mug and pushing her plate aside to come forward onto her haunches and place her hands on his raised knees. He looked away.

"Yeah, well -"

"And you're right. It is pretty insensitive for him to turn up like this, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, then not even stick around long enough to tell you why. Or, you know, be a decent person and say anything at all."

He cracked a smile at this and took her hands. "Whoa. Nice empathy-rant. Impressive."

"Sorry. It's just - -I'm allowed to be mad at him, aren't I? It's not like I don't know how disruptive it is. How it messes with your head and turns everything - -everything!- - upside down. Snap. He's here. Poof. He's gone. Like a delinquent genie."

"Rory? You okay?"

The concern in his voice as he squeezed her fingers brought her eyes to his from where they'd drifted away, and when she saw their pained look she felt suddenly guilty. "Me? Yeah. Sorry. I - -I didn't mean to go on and on. Sorry."

"S'okay," he said, working his thumbs soothingly at the base her hers.

After a few moments, Jess broke the silence. "Thinking about your dad, huh?"

"Um, yeah. I think I was. Sorry. We were talking about you."

He shrugged then gently pulled her hands until she came close enough to lay her cheek below his shoulder. Ignoring her hip pressed on his groin and focusing instead on her hair falling as he lifted it between his fingers, he asked. "So, anything specific brought this on?"

"Oh ... no. Not really. Well, he's not coming to my graduation, but -"

"Sorry."

"Thanks. But I'm fine."

"Yeah, sounds like it."

"I am. I will be."

"Okay."

"And you're coming, so that more than makes up for it."

"Front row, centre."

"You're sweet," she said, spidering her fingers along his side.

"Shh! Not so loud."

"Grandma and Grandpa'll be all warm and fuzzy too. It's perfect."

"I can really picture it."

"They will be!"

"Sure."

"It'll be fine."

"All eyes're gonna be on the girl at the podium in the dumb hat, right? I'll basically be invisible."

"Hey! Respect the tassel."

"Should I bow, or curtsey?"

"I don't know, show me," she taunted.

"Ah, I gotta practice first. And don't do the face."

"Fine," she said and kissed the underside of his jaw fleetingly. "Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"Everything will work out, okay? I promise."

"Yeah. Probably."

"Maybe if you gave him a chance to -"

"Yeah," he said. "We'll see." And he tilted her chin up with one finger, brushing a lip on hers that opened them.

* * *

><p>At some point in the evening, it had occurred to her to say, "Oh, but no sports though, okay? Just 'til after my graduation."<p>

"No - -What?"

"Don't get me wrong, the black eye was ... um - -It had an appeal of its own, but -" He rolled his eyes as it dawned on him, then bit his lip, listening to her finish, "they're prettiest _au naturel._ And I don't know how, but you came out almost unscathed after the other night, so - -Hey." She sat up, folding her legs underneath her, still between his raised knees, and stroked around his ear before touching her palm against his cheek. "I'm only teasing. I know you didn't do it on purpose last time, so -"

"Yeah, about that -"

"What? I'm pretty sure Grandma will be polite, and as for Grandpa -"

"Rory, I can handle a couple hours' cross-questioning about my honorable and dishonorable intentions towards you, okay? It's not that."

"Then what is it? Because you look -"

"Just, uh - -Just listen, okay? I got a pretty good idea how I look."

"Okay."

"This," he paused and shook his head. "Remember you promised not to mock me before? About the eye?"

"But I'm -"

"I know you're not, but ..." he broke off and aimed a vicious look at the ceiling before closing his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, and saying, "Christ knows why this is such a big deal, but for some reason -" He focused on her. "It is. It wasn't a football; it was a swan, okay? And if you laugh in my face Rory Gilmore -"

She didn't laugh, but she did smile and couldn't do much to look more serious despite his warning frown and folded arms. "I'm not," she said. "Look at me, I'm not laughing, am I?"

She knelt up and tugged on his crossed arms a couple of times until he dropped them. Taking his hands and interweaving their fingers, she brought his arms around her, leaning forward to plant kisses on his forehead.

_Last notes of perfume at the base of her throat. _

Looping her arms around his neck, she rested back on her heels, then pressed the end of her nose to his and said, "I kinda want to hear the end of that threat now though. No prom? Break up with me?"

Grinning now despite himself, he replied, "How about, I'd never recover? Never forgive you? How's that?"

"Yep, that's pretty bad alright."

"Then let's go with that," he said, his mouth near and closing fast on that throat.

"Was it? What you were going to say, I mean?"

"Maybe," he mumbled, only pausing between kisses to add, "That or - -Something about withdrawing my labor."

Her breathing broke up the fluency of her reply. "I - -I don't want to know. What labor you - -You're referring to. Do I?"

He smirked against her collar-bone and looked up at her as he said, "Hey, I gotta have some pride, haven't I? You can't wound my ego like that and expect me to just _put out _like I'm -"

She silenced him with her palm over his mouth, saying, "Jess, God!"

Smiling beneath it, he lifted it off and pushed his fingers through hers. He bit his lip like it bit back the smirk, though it didn't really approximate contrition so much as momentary, still teasing silence.

She blushed, trying to look stern as she said, "You are incorrigible."

"Huh."

"Well, yes. Of course you're quiet now**.**"

"You want to hear something else? I got more if -"

"No! At least, not right now, okay? But I do appreciate you telling me about your eye."

"Surprised Luke didn't blab it all over town."

"I won't either, you know."

"Good. And you're still not allowed to mock me, alright?"

"I promise. Especially now I've been apprised of the penalties."

That softened his warning look and he managed, "Yeah, so," before adding with more vehemence, "But that damn bird? Evil. Seriously. And I haven't seen it around for a while, but when I do -"

"Larson's dock, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"He's come at me a couple of times over the years. Gave me a nice bruise on my ankle once. Not recently though. Probably because I jumped so high I think _Bleak House _hit him the last time. I felt really bad, but maybe he is evil."

"No question. He is."

"I believe you," she said with an earnest expression, absently tracing a fingertip around his left eye. He gently applied more pressure to the small of her back then pressed her mouth, feeling her small hands rake through his hair and down his neck, fast over his back.

* * *

><p>Later, both conscious that soon he had to head back, they were quiet, sitting side-by-side, each slumped against the headboard. The two of them unwittingly staring at their linked fingers that rested on her thigh.<p>

She said, "It might be good to go. In the summer, I mean. To California. As long as you come back."

He frowned, looking quizzical. "Why wouldn't I come back?"

"Because you - -You've got decisions to make. You can do whatever you want."

"Yeah, but -"

"You hate it here."

"Okay, but -"

"I'm going to miss you. In Europe."

"Well, I, uh ... I'll miss you too."

"I'll write," she said.

"Okay."

"Let me know where to."

"Rory, I don't even know where the guy is. Hell, I don't even know if I wanna know. So don't pack me off so soon, alright? Hey, I look tough, but you might just hurt a guy's feelings, you know?"

"Sorry."

He caught her eye with a look of ironic disdain. "Cruel woman. Will you ever change?"

She smiled and posed theatrically with the back of one hand against her forehead when she said, "Oh, to be reformed by the love of a decent man."

"Sorry. Kinda got a thing for being indecent."

"It'll have to do, I guess. The love's still good though?"

"Oh, yeah. It's better, I hear."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. And thanks so much to those of you who review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p><em>"It might be good to go. In the summer, I mean. To California. As long as you come back."<em>

_"Rory, I don't even know where the guy is. Hell, I don't even know if I wanna know. So don't pack me off so soon, alright? Hey, I look tough, but you might just hurt a guy's feelings, you know?"_

_..._

The next day Jess made a phonecall, his fingers tight on the receiver.

So many rings. Like the phone was lost.

It made his jaw ache.

"Hello?"

"Liz," he acknowledged.

"Jess! Oh my god, my baby boy! You called! And I was just thinking about you, isn't that cool? That's _so _cool."

"Liz, did you -"

"Really, it's amazing, right? I mean, right this second I was thinking about this movie I saw, and it said it was based on a book or something - -You know, like lots of 'em are, and I thought, 'Maybe Jess read that book.' My smart little trouble-maker. Only I can't remember the name, but anyway it was -"

"Mom!"

"What, sugar? I'll tell you about the movie later, maybe. Tell your mom all about what's going on with - "

"Liz, for Christ's sake, did you talk to Jimmy?"

"Your dad Jimmy?"

"No, Liz, Jimmy Cagney. For fu-"

"Hey, don't get sore at me, young man. I told him where you were, didn't I?"

"'Course you did," he said in an undertone. "Of-friggin'-course you did."

"What? I mean, I didn't have to, did I? I don't have to tell him nothing, lousy dead-beat son of a -"

"Liz!"

"Well, I don't. But I did. For you. He called about ... eh, I don't remember. A while back anyways. Wanting to know how you are and stuff. Don't worry, I didn't tell him nothing except you were back in my cute little home town and better off living with Luke. How is that big, sweet 'ole brother of mine, anyway? You being good to him like I said? He's not too hard on you, is he? Because I want – "

"Jesus, Liz, stop! Why didn't you tell me he was asking after me?"

"I forgot, I guess. I don't know."

"Perfect."

"You're not all that easy to get a-hold of either, Mister. I've called you plenty, and you're always out or something. Don't think I don't -"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a crappy son. Been a little busy trying to hold shit together here, Lizzie. Not that you'd know anything about it, but whatever. And it's really hit the fan now, okay? So for once, give the _Mater Dolorosa _routine a rest, and tell me why the hell you just gave out my address like you're Information Services all of a sudden."

"Oh, so you're mad at me for that? I thought I did the right thing. Oh man."

"Why, Liz?"

"I thought it couldn't hurt for you to see him now. You're all grown up, and - -I mean, he _is _your father, and he just called out of the blue asking about you. I thought I was being a good mom and responsible and not holding a grudge, you know?"

"Jesus Christ, I bet you did, too," he said wearily.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to screw up again. Honestly, Jess honey, please -"

"He say anything?"

"Like what?"

"Like what his friggin' angle is maybe?"

"No, he just said he got my number from Danny - -Who I'm never gonna even -"

"Liz."

"Alright, alright. Anyway, he just wanted to know about you. 'My son' he said, like that, and I said he had some nerve -"

"So I'm guessing he didn't leave a number."

"No, and I didn't -"

"Address?"

"No. Why would I -"

"Great." Heavy. Empty.

"Can you believe he asked me how I was doing? How am I _doing_! Like he has a right - -So I told him he could stick his -"

"He came by," Jess said. Detaching the words with deceptive evenness.

"He did? Oh man. Did you talk? What did -"

"You should've warned me, Liz. I deserve that, don't you think?"

"I don't get it. Didn't he call you or write you or something?"

"_You _should've called, Liz. You."

"Well, yeah, okay. Wish I had now, sure. But -"

"Okay then. Gotta go."

"Wait, Jess, how'd it go? And what's happening with you? What d'you mean about -"

"Great, Liz. It went spectacularly."

_Click._

* * *

><p>She stepped off the bus in Stars Hollow and began making her way across the square.<p>

"Rory!"

Turning at the sound of her name, she saw Dean loping towards her. He threw a hand in the air and grinned as he caught up to where she'd stopped. Her compressed mouth strained to turn up at its corners.

"Rory, hey. Haven't seen you around for a few days. You okay?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm good, thanks. Um, you?"

"You read the paper?"

"Yes, um, yeah. So. Congratulations."

"Thanks. That means a lot, Rory. After ... you know."

"That's okay," she said, waving it away.

"No, I'm serious," he said earnestly. "It really means a lot to me - -And to Lindsay too," he added quickly.

"Well, good. You're welcome, I guess." She looked over her shoulder. "Anyway -"

"I was going to tell you at Fran's funeral," he rushed out now the ice was broken, "but you weren't there."

"Nope. Tell your ophthalmologist you deserve two lollipops on your next visit," she said, trying for lightness. "But I should get go-"

"Ha! Yeah, I will. I just wanted to tell you before you read it, you know?"

"It's fine, Dean. Besides, got to keep those circulation numbers up somehow. Pretty much a professional obligation to get my news exclusively through the media. Word of mouth's like cheating. So anyway -"

"Yeah, ha! I get it." He crossed his arms and tucked his hands into his armpits, still grinning. "So I proposed the day after the party." Hunched like he told her a secret.

"Why? Was Lindsay mad?"

"What? No. Why would she be?"

"Oh, no reason. Ignore me. Like I said, congratulations. But I've got to go. Finals, you know?"

She jogged her backpack on her shoulder to help her case. _Exhibit B._

'A' was the apologetic smile.

"Wait, though. Seriously, Rory, what makes you think Lindsay might be mad?"

"Dean, I don't have time for this, okay?" The smile had vanished. "I didn't mean anything by it, so I'll see you around, maybe."

"Fine. Whatever," he said, shrugging off being taken aback. "But you're okay?"

"Yes, Dean, I'm okay. I'm okay, you're okay, everyone's okay. Okay?"

"What's with you?"

"Nothing's _with me _except I've got finals, and I need to study, and I can't because I'm standing in the middle of the street with you saying okay a million times. I don't know what it is you want from me, but I'm happy for you, truly. I hope you're going to be happy. I want you - -and Lindsay - - to be happy. But I've really got to go now, okay? Bye."

She turned to go, but Dean raised his voice to say, "It's Jess, isn't it? You're back with that jerk, and he's treating you like crap. I knew -"

Whirling round, she cut him off, "Shut up, Dean, I mean it. I'm biting my tongue about _so_ many things right now because I'm trying to be a nice person, but I'm telling you now, you don't say anything about Jess - -Or me and Jess - - again, okay? Ever. It's none of your business, and it hasn't been for a long time now, so just stay out of it."

"But -"

"And I'm sorry if you don't want to hear that, and I'm sorry if I'm yelling, but I'm serious about you staying out of my relationship with Jess. Otherwise, I really don't see how we can stay friends."

"But, Rory -"

"I'm going now, Dean. I have to study. So think hard about whether you're going to say anything else because -"

"Everything okay here?" Jess's voice from behind her brought her up short. "Rory?"

She turned to see him shoot her a questioning look, and she reached out, feeling him take her hand as he arrived and stood beside her. "Everything's fine, Jess. I was just telling Dean I had to go study."

Dean's eyes darted between Jess and Rory, his mouth open but soundless. Jess smirked up at him and said, "So I heard. Hey, though. No hard feelings, right, man?"

"Whatever," Dean spat, looking down his nose. "Bye, Rory. Have a nice life."

And, turning his back on them, he strode off.

Jess slipped his arm around her, and she leaned her head against him wearily as they began walking, hearing him say, "Didn't even get to give my heartfelt congratulations to the guy. I'm crushed."

She chuckled and lifted her mouth to be kissed, holding her bag on her shoulder with one hand and reaching the other up to his face. Pulling back and planting a kiss on Jess's nose, she asked, "So how much of that did you actually hear?"

"Eh, not sure what he said to make you mad, but I heard you tell him to butt out."

"That was the gist, really, yeah."

"So, you're alright?"

"I'm fine. Don't think I'll be getting a save-the-date card any time soon, but I'm okay with that."

"Good. Heading home?"

"Yeah. But I'll buy you a cup of coffee for coming to my rescue."

"Okay, but you really don't fit the profile for a damsel in distress."

"No?"

"Nope. Seemed like you were handling things pretty well on your own."

"True. But, just in general, I think your chivalry needs some rewarding."

"Then I guess I'm defenseless to your onslaught."

"I am very persuasive."

"No argument."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading and reviewing. And if you're inclined to read on ...

_"Lily, Sasha and Jimmy aren't home right now, ..."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p>"Lily, Sasha and Jimmy aren't home right now, but leave a message anyway, and who knows, maybe we'll get back to you."<p>

* * *

><p>"Lily, Sasha and Jimmy aren't home -"<p>

* * *

><p>Seeing Rory peer round the door to the apartment as he sat reading on his bed, he looked over his book at her and said, "No one's home."<p>

"Then who are you?" she said, crossing the room and watching him close his book, sit straighter and move over to make room for her. She couldn't read his expression but bent at the bedside to kiss him anyway.

"On the phone," came the flat-sounding coda.

"You called?" she inferred. Pulling feet out of sneakers. Pushed at his knees in a way that elicited a puzzled look rather than a reply. But he complied by sliding over and accommodated her as she gingerly climbed over his legs. In the end, she sat at right-angles to him with her back against the wall, thighs in an arch over his lap.

"Well?" she prompted.

"What? Oh, uh, yeah." He collected himself. "Sounds downright cosy."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Woman's voice. And," he shrugged, "like a sorta self-conscious, quirky vibe."

"Oh."

He rubbed a scar on his knuckle and said, "Either lives with two women, or he's got another kid."

"Oh, Jess, really?"

"Lily and Sasha and Jimmy," he intoned. "Jeez. Probably got a dog called Melville or something. Really round off the happy family, you know?"

"Jess, I know you're mad -"

Pulling his head back a fraction, he said, "I'm not mad."

"Fine, well, you've - -There's a lot going on, then. But that's just their answer-phone message. If it's even him. Just ... don't jump to conclusions, maybe."

He looked amused and dropped a "Huh," at her, then poked one of her knees as he said, "You're just saying that 'cos of your messages."

She pushed his shoulder gently in rebuke. "We're not quirky. We're eccentric and lovable."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You really hate our message?"

"No," he sighed. "And it's absolutely _not _freaky that you change it every damn week either. Or that you swap voices with your mom - -Actually, that did give me a friggin' awful nightmare, jeez."

"You didn't tell me."

"Duh."

"Oh, come on, you've got to tell me now."

"Not happening."

"But -"

"Deal with it."

"Fine."

"And no one's buying that the refrigerator's taking the call either," he added. "Your mom's impressions suck."

"What about her toaster? I think her toaster-voice is her best."

"Oh yeah, I love leaving messages with Mrs. Poptart von Toasterson. Really brightens my day."

"I'm glad," she replied with a provoking smile.

"Oh, you are, huh?" he said, matching her sarcasm and taking up the nearest hand, watching her nod. Flashed a kiss onto her wrist where the pulse beat. Fast.

"So," she said, and cleared her throat, "you think you'll try again?"

"Maybe."

"Okay."

"I don't know. Probably, I guess."

"Good."

"Tomorrow, maybe."

"Then good luck. But tell me, and be honest, you want a dog called Melville, don't you?"

* * *

><p>"Okay, so talk fast 'cos I'm out the door," said the woman's voice down the line.<p>

Jess swallowed but managed, "Is Jimmy there?"

"Sorry, no. He's at work. Can I take a message?"

"No, I'll - -Maybe I'll try again. Thanks."

"Well sure, mystery caller, that's your prerogative. Unless he owes you money. Is it about money?"

"Uh, no."

"Great, then try again and better luck next time."

* * *

><p>Three days later and the phone was answered, but there was only silence at the other end. Before Jess thought to say something, rattling came over the receiver, and he heard the now-familiar female voice. "Lily, gimme the - -Hi there."<p>

"Uh, Jimmy around?"

"Hey, mystery caller. Can I ask who's speaking this time?"

"I'm just trying to speak to Jimmy Mariano."

"That's great, and I appreciate the clarification. Really. So who's calling?"

"Look, is he there or not?"

"Okay, well, I tried polite, and now I'm going to go with 'What do you want?'"

"It's - -I'm Jess, okay? The son. And I just want to talk to Jimmy."

"You're ... - - Okay, well I guess that clears up that mystery. Sorry though, he's not in, but I'll make damn sure he is in about thirty minutes if you want to try then, okay? Is that okay, Jess?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"No problem. That was a fun game though, wasn't it?"

"Look, sorry. I didn't -"

"I'm Sasha, by the way. And I better go get Jimmy for you, but it's nice talking to you, Jess. Maybe we'll talk again."

"Oh. Uh, okay. Thanks."

* * *

><p>Forty slow minutes passed.<p>

Forty minutes and one ring - - "I got it, Sash, okay? Jess?"

"Jimmy."

"She was serious. I mean, she looked serious. Man, did she look serious, but - -So, you called."

"Yep."

"Good. That's good. I'm, uh, I'm glad. That you called."

"'Cos you wanted to talk, right? That's why you came and saw me and said nothing? 'Cos you wanted to talk to me?"

"Look, man, I wanted to, but I just -"

"What, Jimmy? Wussed out?"

"Actually, yes." The shock of concession. Of unexpected resolve.

"Oh."

"I mean, I wanted to _see_ you, but talking was meant to be part of the seeing you thing."

"Right."

"'Course, I'd go a long way to hear Suffragette City - -Or any classic off _Ziggy _for that matter, but there were definitely supposed to be some words exchanged. After, not during though because, come on, it's Bowie -"

"Jimmy, I think the mutual Bowie-appreciation's pretty well-established, alright?"

"Yes, you're right. You Are Right. We've established that. Good."

"So why d'you come?"

"Oh. Good question. Yeah, that's - -That's the one to ask. So, uh, you talked to Sasha, right?"

"Right."

"Well, she's got this kid -"

"She's not yours?"

"Lily? No. She's Sasha's. Didn't I just -"

"Okay."

"Well, she put in this request. A written one, even. Used my typewriter. She's great."

"I'll bet."

"Anyway, this request was for a brother. Crazy, right? I said that. I said, 'Sasha, the kid is freaking me out.' Does it all the time, but you get used to it."

"Huh."

"'Cept, turns out I'm not a complete son of a bitch, apparently, and do indeed seem to have a soul because this just completely shreds my mind and would not quit. So long story short I'm loser coffee-guy and staring at you and just totally wussing out. And low and behold, I am a son of a bitch all over again because I can't say a goddamn word, and I have to get outta there, pronto - "

"Jimmy - "

"Wait, it gets better, 'cos then I find out that the soul-having thing wasn't temporary, 'cos I have visionary-quality insight now about just how much of a son of bitch I am. Total lack of capacity for denial all of a sudden. Which, let me tell you, feels great."

"Huh."

"So listen, anyway, I'm sorry for being kind of a dick and ... like, the embodiment of wussing out. I mean it. I don't think I've been this sorry since ... - -Well it's a long time anyway, and believe me I apologise to Sasha pretty much five times a week. And that's probably because she goes pretty easy on me mostly. Jess, man, I am a loser, and I know it. So ... there you go, I guess."

"Uh, okay."

"Okay then. Good. Ball's rolling on the whole talking issue."

"Right."

"Yeah, so, I don't know, I'd ask how stuff is with you, but I guess that's maybe none of my business, probably, so -"

"Stuff's okay."

"Well, good. That's good."

"Yeah."

Silence stretched taut 'til it snapped.

"Look," Jimmy blurted, "I didn't mean to mess with, like, your life or anything, you know? I mean, I'm not totally clueless. Not now, anyway. So I know dropping by's gonna -"

"Forget it."

"Oh. Okay."

"So, how'd you get from New York to California?"

"Ah. From, uh - -To here. Right. Well, uh ..."

"Jimmy, I'm not breaking your balls, okay?"

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"Okay, so, great. Well, I don't know about you, but I got a thing for the ocean, or - -Well, turns out it's the beach, but I thought it was the ocean for a while. Or just, like, vast expanses of water. You ever eat lobster?"

* * *

><p>"... here for a little over five years now, I think, so ... yeah. With the business and stuff too, I'm maybe holding it together just about. 'Cept she's called me 'roomie' twice now, and I'm thinking that's a bad thing, so ... we'll see, I guess. Probably be sleeping with the pack tonight."<p>

"Uh, pack?"

"Dogs. Sasha keeps taking 'em in. I say I hate it but the irony makes it hard to take a real stand."

"I guess."

"So there you - -Wh-? What's - -Uh, Jess, just hang for a sec, 'cos she's given me a note and - -Sash, what's-? You're - -Shouldn't we -? Okay, okay. Uh, Jess, you're still there, right?"

"Barely."

"Right, so Sasha - -Okay, _me _and Sash thought maybe you want to come out here - -Or, I mean, we'd like it if you did. Visit. With us. If you want. But only if you wanted, 'cos I can think of plenty of reasons why you don't, or, maybe, can't or - -Anyway, it's out there, so, you know ..."

"Uh, that's ... I -"

"Weird right? Totally outta left-field. Creepy, maybe, but - -I don't know, I'm not, like -"

"Jimmy, stop. It's not. It's, uh - -I appreciate it."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so, thanks, but I'm - -Stuff's happening here right now, so ... - -But I'll get back to you. If you want."

"Sure, that's - -Yes. Okay."

"And thanks."

"No problem. Seriously, it's no -"

"Look, this is long distance, so -"

"Yes, yes it is. So, we'll talk again, maybe, if -"

"Okay."

"Wait! Sasha's - -Oh, yeah. Call me at the stand if you want. I'm there a lot so - -You got a pen?"

"Yup."

* * *

><p>Jess thought about tapping on her window. Then thought better of it. Not that she wouldn't let him in; she had before, even when she didn't expect him. And he was expected tonight.<p>

So when he knocked and heard Lorelai's voice call out, "S'open!" he saw her turn from her prone position on the couch to give him a quick once over and say with exaggerated relief, "Thank God! Make her take a break before she Nashes out on me, okay?"

He nodded wordlessly and escaped to the kitchen. There, he picked up the coffee pot and elbowed Rory's foot-open door wide enough to pass through, closing it behind him with his heel.

Without looking round, she raised a hand to wiggle some pen-holding fingers and said, "Just a sec," so he topped her up, then pulled the pen out of her still-hovering hand. She didn't notice, so intent was she on the textbook in the other. Nevertheless, she set down the book, still reading, and reached instinctively for the coffee.

He scanned the page over her shoulder, and when she flopped the book shut and stretched, he snapped the laptop lid shut behind her, then felt her slump face-first onto his stomach where he stood, her weary arms loose round his hips.

He laughed and stroked her hair. Tugged a section of it gently, but it only induced a groan he felt as well as heard until she finally rose off her seat, clutched blindly at one of his hands, and stumbled them both towards her bed. She lay back, flat across its width, so he propped himself on his side looking down at her. Wry smile as she rubbed her eyes then smiled back.

Her next look sent him leaning down towards the bitten lip.

* * *

><p>She stopped tracing a fingertip around the print on his shirt for long enough for him to say, "Kid's not his."<p>

"You got a-hold of him?"

She raised herself on an elbow to see him better, and shifting made her momentarily tighten the thigh that was thrown over his. So rather than catch his expression and try to read him, what she saw was his eyes close lazily.

"Yeah," he exhaled by way of an answer.

"So?" she prompted, and he opened his eyes on her biting a pensive finger, a half-curious smile forming past it.

It charmed an imperfect reflection out of him before he twisted his neck awkwardly to look past her, seemingly studying an Art Deco poster for Milan. "Think I pissed his girlfriend off maybe, but then she was sorta - -I don't know."

"But apart from that, how'd it go?"

He glanced down at her. "Okay, pretty much. He's nuts or something, but it was okay."

"Good. So, um, was there ...?" Leaving it open. Not wanting to push. Not wanting the eye-roll.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Said he's lived all over. Has a thing for the beach which is - -Just beyond words, honestly. Been in Venice for a while, though. Santa Monica ... " Another shrug.

"Santa Monica?" Redoubled curiosity lit her up. "So, Dante's Inferno? It has to be."

"Gold-star for sleuthing goes to you, Nancy Drew."

"Yes!" The triumphant little punch to the air made him laugh. "I knew it. Established 1922 by J Hubert Abendroth," she reeled off, "Reopened last year: James Anthony Mariano, proprietor."

"Anyway, he's into restoring stuff or whatever, so the name's historical, but he talked like he'd read it -"

"The whole _Divine Comedy_?"

"Seemed like it, so ..." Another shrug.

"Well, points for that then, maybe?"

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"Did you ask why he came?"

"Yep." Teeth dragged over part of his lip, giving him a thoughtful look. _Pained?_ Just for a second. Then, eyes expressive and amused, he rapped out, "Told me he was chicken and a loser and a dick, so he was looking to stick the landing on the contrition thing apparently."

"Good," she said with a matter-of-fact nod. "Sounds like he grew a conscience at least."

"I guess admitting you've got no balls is probably the first step to growing some."

"Jess!"

"Huh. That's a pretty fetching shade of red on you, look at that. It's nice."

"Well, excellent." She feintingly jabbed a finger against his chest. "You know how I love getting compliments that are also _mean_."

"Glad to be of service."

"You are nothing if not perennially helpful."

"Thank you."

A splayed hand pushed his face away. "Think nothing of it."

Chuckling under his breath, he bounced back to press first his nose, then his lips against her cheek. It didn't derail her from following up, "But, why did he come, anyway? Why now?"

He pulled back. "Ah ... that part's kinda ... weird. He was hazy on the details, you know?"

"Oh," she said quietly. Halting. Unsure how far to probe. "So, he didn't say or - -Because you don't have to tell me. It's -"

"Nah, it's just ... weird, like I said." The look of unconcern that accompanied his assurance became a frown as he shook his head and sought to explain what he wasn't sure of himself.

"Can't tell if the girlfriend wants another kid, or he's thinking about it, maybe - -Or is, like, freaked at the idea. Could be she's knocked up already, I don't know. Anyway, he told it like the girlfriend's kid wants a brother and the conscience kinda kicked in after that."

Her brow furrowed as he spoke, leaving her with an expression something between puzzled and incredulous. "Wow. Um. That's just ... " She blanked.

His eyebrows lifted. "Weird?"

She nodded. "And vague."

"Yep," he said, screwing his mouth to one side, studying another poster this time. Peru.

She watched his face, though not expecting to catch his eye as she asked, "So, how d'you feel?"

He shrugged. "He asked - -Or Sasha anyway, asked if I want to go out there."

"Oh," she said, casting her eyes down. Seeing where she gripped his shirt. Inspecting her thumbnail. Not seeing that he had turned his gaze on her.

"Said I'd think about it, maybe."

She looked up and tried for a smile. "Good. Thinking's good."

Thumbnail. Thumb. Under it, the fabric pinched onto her forefinger.

Resettling his temple on the fist that propped him up, he hooked two fingers into her belt-loop, making her look up. "Well, you seem to rate it, but I gotta say the gilt's coming off on my end, 'cos I'm pretty sure it's giving me a tumor."

"Yes, Jess," she acceded with mock-seriousness, "because, as a smart and brooding guy who argued with me _for an hour_ about how I rank Atwood, Orwell and Huxley, thinking deeply is completely new to you, and the Rodinesque pose and stuff is all a front. I knew it all along."

"I _am _a master of illusion."

"You're still not allowed to pull a coin out of my nose."

"Damn."

"But ... you want to go, though? Meet properly and talk and ... stuff?"

"Maybe." But drawing his chin in, he added, "Not that I'm looking for Confucian wisdom from dear old Dad. I'm not."

Emphatic enough to make her nod quickly, "No."

He was running his thumb over the narrow strip of the belt-loop as he said, "Get the feeling life lessons and teachable moments aren't exactly Jimmy's gig."

Her small sympathetic smile offered up, "They're not my dad's strong suit, either."

"Right, so. I don't need - -Don't _want _anything from him. But - -I don't know."

Frustration picked at the stitching.

"I get it," she said.

"Depends on the GED stuff, and work stuff, and money and whatever, too, you know?"

"What does Luke think?"

Another shrug, meeting her eye. "Figured I'd talk to you first."

"Aww -"

"Don't even," he said, hand coming fast off her hip as he held up a warning finger.

"Okay," she said and composed her face. "But it's your call, Jess. We can plan for whatever. Of course, Luke'll have an opinion -"

"Yeah," he interrupted, lip curling. "I don't doubt it."

"But he just wants you to have a plan so that you're, ... well ... happy. And don't make that face because - -Fine, he wouldn't say it like that, but that's what he wants and you know it. Really."

"I do, huh?"

That eyebrow-arch. She pressed it with the pad of her finger to flatten it, smiling but affirming seriously, "Yes, Jess. You do."

His response was to trap against his jaw the hand that trailed down to touch his face.

"So," she continued, "you could work now and get your diploma then go see your dad, or - -I think we've got an okay chance of convincing Luke you need a break, maybe, so you could go to Venice soonish, then come back and study. Whatever's good for you."

He had manoeuvred his mouth under her palm and lifted it to say, "We'll see."

"So, you'll think about it?" she said, watching as he linked their fingers in the air.

"Promise I'll get pro/conning right after this."

"After what?"

He pulled gently on their clasped hands until she leaned closer, looking inquisitive. "This," he said.

And he kissed her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. And thanks so much to those of you who review.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p>Rory arrived at Lane's house on the Friday of Stars Hollow High's prom and was swept upstairs hastily by Mrs Kim to "Calm her down, for goodness' sake," because it's not seemly in the eyes of the Lord to look and act like Lane was. "Too excited," was the verdict. "Too happy."<p>

A tentative knock and the door was thrown open by a wild-looking Lane.

"Rory, thank god!"

"Okay, I'm here. What's the crisis?"

"What's the crisis she asks? Which one do you want? The hair crisis, the underwear crisis or the 'there's no way I can ever do this, I'm going to throw up' crisis?"

"Uh, let's start with the hair."

Lane sat heavily in front of her dressing table and took fistfuls of her hair, looking at Rory behind her in the mirror. "So, it's got to be up, right? But how 'up' should it be? Like, far up? Half up? Help!"

Lane let her hair go with a little closed-mouth scream, and Rory tamed it lightly with her fingers, saying soothingly, "Okay, just try and relax. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth or something." She began lifting sections, peering into the mirror to see the effect. "So. How's that?"

"How's that? That's perfect! That's what it is. Can you fix it like that?"

"I brought a million bobbypins, so, yeah. I think so. Now hold still."

Rory started skewering the style, and Lane tried to keep her hands still, asking, "So, you've got one more final?"

"Yeah. Monday."

"Oh, that sucks. Ruining a whole weekend with crazy-worrying and studying for just one final? Majorly sucking."

"Yep. I like to think that it both sucks and blows according to Bartonian physics."

"You're student government vice-president, though. Didn't you tell them it violates several laws of thermodynamics? You'd think a place like Chilton would acknowledge a heavy-weight scientific argument like that."

"Ah, but you're forgetting our beloved President would enter a Faustian bargain for a little more study-time. And though I'm pretty sure she's not interested in my soul, I doubt I'd escape without losing a pound of flesh if I went toe-to-toe with her on something like this."

"Or she'd go full-on Laertes at you again."

"Probably. So it seems like I'm in the tragedy-averting business right now."

"Then I hope you go bankrupt. I mean, in a good way. I think."

"Um, thanks. I think."

"But you're free after Monday, so yay for that, right?"

"Right. Except it's making it so hard to look past my nose, you know? To look forward to stuff and enjoy the graduating-senior, rite of passage, yearbook-signing euphoria. Bleh."

"Yeah, I bet it does. Sorry. But promise you won't go Brenda Ann Spencer on us, though? Garfield seems like the model for proportionate response, don't you think?"

"I'll do my best."

"But once Monday's over - -I mean, you've got a ceiling-net full of balloons all prepared, that's a given -"

"Of course," said Rory with an almost-straight face.

"But any other plans? Big thing with your mom or - -Oh, well, Jess probably?"

"Oh, um, yeah. With my mom."

First kisses were one thing. Kissing in general, really. Relationship-talk. And in Lane's case, up until very recently, non-relationship-talk. Things on the level of the frequency of calling and being called, possibly of hanging up. Sex when it was hypothetical. All this seemed natural to talk about with Lane.

But now Rory realised she needed to work out the logistics of talking to Lane about ... this.

Madeline and Louise they were not. And Lane and Jess might never be pals, but Rory at least wanted them to be able to look each other in the face. Broaching the subject with Jess seemed like the best and worst of all possible ideas all of a sudden too.

Later.

She'd work it out later. And after all, this was Lane's big night. Lane's hair was what she should focus on here.

Lane.

Hair.

So Rory added quickly, "But you should come over if you think you can swing it. It's just going to be food and movies -"

"And balloons," Lane chimed in.

"Mandatory, yes. But you should definitely come. You can MC and DJ and - -Well, all the rest of the alphabet if you want."

"Oh, I want to _so _badly," Lane said forlornly. "But I'm still grounded after the whole band-party-beer fiasco. You're basically witnessing my final hours of freedom for a long - -And I mean _lo-ong_ time. Bah! Damn my horrible timing and rebellious urges."

"Happens to the best of us, my friend," Rory said sympathetically.

"Well, you're my best friend and my hair's at your mercy, so there's no way I'm mentioning that _my _moment of madness landed me in Mrs Kim's panopticon for four months, and it only took me across town and down to the bottom of two cups of beer. Whereas _you _got all the way to New York then landed on Jess's lips. And your long-term result is looking pretty great from where I'm sitting - -Sitting being nice to my best friend who's very kindly styling my hair for the best night of my life so far and possibly ever."

Rory grinned at the sight of Lane's penitent look. "So as long as you're _not _mentioning this, you wouldn't have a point either?"

"Jealousy, Rory. My point is always going to be good, old-fashioned envy. Very friendly envy."

"Except _you _are the belle of the ball, and I have a final to study for."

"But then your prom's next Friday? You have to be excited about that."

"Hmm, now, let me think," Rory mused. "Or let me answer a question with a question. Are you,Lane Kim, excited about your prom?"

"Rory, if I was more excited, there'd be a worse underwear problem." Lane's nose wrinkled and she recoiled from her image in the mirror. "Sorry. That was kind of gross."

"I can deal. But yeah, I'm excited."

"I'm sorry you're not coming tonight," said Lane, more subdued.

Rory tried for a smile. "Me too."

Striving for a dignified pause as if it changed the subject, after a moment Lane asked, "How is Jess?"

"He's good, thanks."

Another pause. Then, only a little portentously, Lane said, "So. Jess at Chilton."

"Yup."

"Worlds collide."

"Way to be dramatic, Lane."

Lane pursed her mouth and looked earnest. "No, it'll be fine, I'm sure."

"I'm glad _you _are," Rory said with a rueful smile. "But, um, he knows Paris. And no one else there is - -Well, a _total _jerk, so -"

"Except for Francie."

Rory frowned into the mirror. "Yeah, but when it comes to that, it's more a matter of him keeping _me _away from Francie."

"That's my girl! Smackdown!" Lane's palm hit the dressing-table and four eyes turned on the door.

They waited. Time had to have stopped.

Turning her attention back to the mirror, Rory whispered emphatically, "Yeah, I hope not."

Lane whispered too, looking serious. "And you could always tag Paris in."

Their eyes met in the mirror, and it set them giggling quietly. "Yeah," Rory said, "I could."

"You'll have a great time, I know it."

"And so, your Highness, will you," said Rory, placing a final pin and watching Lane twist to see from new angles.

"Why thank you, Milady," she said, getting up and curtseying, seeing Rory make a deep bow back. "And now, underwear."

Rory rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>Outside the Kims' Rory called out, "Last picture, I promise. Say tofurkey! Okay. Now go, you crazy mixed-up kids."<p>

As she waved her friend off, Jess appeared by her side and took her by surprise with a kiss.

"They made it then?" he asked, reaching around her waist as they started across the square.

"Yeah, they made it."

"Sorry you missed it."

"Eh, it's fine. I'm still stressed with my final final. But," she turned a smile on him, "I'm looking forward to next Friday."

"Good."

"Have I told you how beautiful the Wadsworth Mansion is?"

"Not only did you tell me, you showed me. Pamphlets and websites were involved. You were generally very informative."

"But it does look gorgeous, doesn't it?"

"Seemed nice."

She looked a little downcast. "You're not looking forward to it."

He stopped on the curb and crooked his arm to bring her to face him. "Hey, insofar as I'm taking you, I'm looking forward to it."

"Then that's good enough for me," she said with a smile, laying a palm on his chest.

He kissed her, placing his hand over hers and taking it to reach the back of his neck, where she twined fingers in his hair. Trailing back down her arm, he snared her at her waist, pulling her against him.

"So," he said, "I'm guessing you've got to study for this final final, Major Major?"

"Yep."

"Coffee and pie to go then?"

"Sounds good," she said with a step off the curb.

Stars Hollow residents had long since grown accustomed to the hazard they posed.

* * *

><p>Sunday night and he's leaving. Cool on the veranda. One foot on the last step, her hand still not letting his go as she leaned down to kiss him. Unsteady. Pulling back, breathless.<p>

"So, uh ..." he paused. "You'll call me when you're done?"

"At three, um, yeah."

"Good luck, I guess."

"Thanks."

"Not that you need it."

"Don't be so sure."

"Huh. Rory Modesty Gilmore. Has a nice ring to it."

"Don't make me think one up for you."

"I don't know. Sounds like something I'd like to hear, maybe."

"Then I'll put it on my 'to do' list."

"Jeez, you're gonna make me wait? Why? Trouble thinking on your feet?"

"Trouble thinking. Trouble standing. You name it."

"Huh."

"Shut up."

"Didn't say a word," he said, feigning innocence but ending with his tongue pressing his cheek.

"I meant I'm exhausted. _You're_ exhausting," she pointed accusingly. Then reconsidered. "But I meant from studying and - -Shut up."

"Did I speak?"

"You don't have to."

"Huh."

She took two steps down and placed her hand over his eyes. "Okay, so we're losing these for now -"

"But you'll let me know?"

"Fine. How about Jess Infuriating Mariano?"

He took her hand down. "Couple' alternates'd be good."

"Oh, you think so?"

To her enigmatic look he replied with one of his own until she laughed and kissed him.

In a pause he said, "So, you're gonna at least _try_ not to fall in a diabetic coma after this thing with your mom tomorrow night, right? Or is that too much to ask?"

"Pfft. Comas are for amateurs. Besides, if you promise not to blow my secret identity, it's my superpower because I," she whispered dramatically, "am Insulin-Regulation Girl."

"Ohh," he drew out in the mock-awe of realisation, then deadpanned, "Suddenly, it's all making sense."

"Yeah, so shh! Okay? You don't want me to end up like E.T., do you?"

"What, don't I look trustworthy?" he shot back with a glint in his eye and standing straighter.

She looked him over, her head on one side. "No. But that's good. Shows you can keep a secret, I guess." He quirked an eyebrow and she went on, poking him gently in the chest, "You know, seeing as being trustworthy's _your _secret identity."

He laughed under his breath and looked down shyly, so she continued, grinning as she said, "So there's mutually assured destruction going for us. Oh, and the authorities would never think someone so untrustworthy-looking would be in my confidence, would they?"

He opened his mouth and gaped as if offended, but no quick retort came out before she said, "It's perfect! As long as you don't crack during the interrogation, that is. I've seen _24 _and oh boy - -But you're tough, aren't you, Jess?"

He smirked and said evenly, "Seems that way, doesn't it?" And when he pulled out of her kiss it was with a taunting look that he said, "'Course, now all that torture you've been inflicting on me gets revealed as some kind of basic-training -"

"Hey!" she said, pushing lightly against his shoulders, but it was just a show of struggle and she relaxed in his arms as he held her tightly. Fingers clasped behind her back and looking down at her. Wolfish.

"- In fact, I've been suspecting mild-mannered Modesty Gilmore wasn't all she seemed, but now I'm starting to think it's more likely you're a super-villain, so I'm onto you, alright? You don't fool me for a second."

"Unmasked!" she gasped and kissed him before shaking her head and saying, "Darn you pesky kids and your stupid dog!"

He looked up thoughtfully for a moment, and his eyes flashed as if he'd made a discovery. "So that's why I got the withering stare that Friday night with your grandmother. You don't need to get studied. Turns out you _are _the medical experiment. Jeez, maybe I am clueless."

"Yes, Jess," she nodded sagely. "Cute and dumb, just the way I like 'em. Except not dumb." Stooping slightly to catch his eyes because they'd dropped under the weight of her compliment, she added, "Or only dumb if you ever say I'm a medical experiment again, got it?"

"Got it," he said, meeting her eye and rubbing the tip of her nose with his.

After he dropped a kiss on her hairline, she lay her head against his shoulder and a few seconds passed before he spoke low near her ear. "Guess I should be pretty flattered you're trusting me with this alter-ego thing, huh?"

Her response was a little warm half-laugh against his neck. A flick of her tongue and her lips following.

He carried on, "And don't get me wrong, it feels nice and all..." A moment that closed his eyes until he felt her smile on his skin, recalling him to finish, "But then you threatened to blackmail me, so - -Ow!"

The nip of her teeth made him look hard at her as she vacillated between meek and mischievous. He shook his head and said flatly, "See, I was right. You are evil." Looking skywards, he tutted to himself, saying, "At least 'til now the torture wasn't all bad, but this ..."

She had kissed his upturned chin and he chose to silence himself with her mouth until she drew back and murmured into his shoulder, "I have to go."

Felt but unseen, he nodded, looking over her head at the Gilmore's front door. Swallowing, then clearing his throat, he said, "So, your mom's still -"

She looked up at him quickly, interrupting, "Staying with Sookie and Jackson? Yeah. Dragonfly-talk. Probably with added margarita-mix, but, you know ..." She shrugged.

"Okay, so ...?"

"Eight-thirty?"

"Eight-thirty," he parroted, nodding. "Food?"

"Oh. Um. We could order in or something? Because we won't have anything here, and I can't cook anyway, and I wouldn't know what to - -Plus it's probably a bad idea to try and learn all in one night, you'd think, so -"

He took all this in looking amused until he cut in to explain, "I meant what d'you want me to pick up before I get here."

"Oh."

"But yeah," he said. And smirked. "Let's rule out you learning to cook in less than forty-eight hours, okay?"

"Okay," she exhaled.

"So?"

"Oh, for dinner? I ... um, I don't know what's -"

"You know what, I'll take care of it."

A smile and another relieved breath sighed out as, "Okay. Surprise me."

He smiled despite himself and rolled his eyes, muttering, "Unbelievable," then fixed her with a look. "But relax or something, alright? And quit trying to stress me out just to get me on your level or whatever, 'cos that's pretty low, you know? Unless you're trying to scare me off by threatening to cook -"

Her mouth opened then closed in a pout. A pout he kissed before saying, "So go study, 'cos I'm guessing that's how you're gonna relax, and let me get out of here before your mom chases me off with a - -Jeez, how long has Babette been looking out her window?"

Rory followed his eye-line and saw her neighbour wave enthusiastically then duck behind her curtains. She soothed her thumb against his jaw as he effortfully disengaged his arms from around her waist.

After planting a last kiss on his mouth, she said, "I'll call tomorrow then?" He acknowledged her with the slight upward tilt of his chin as he took a few steps backward, hands deep in his pockets and on the verge of turning to make his way down the drive. She called out, "So good luck."

He threw her a questioning look.

"With Luke," she supplied and watched him grimace.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p>"Trigonometry is officially dead to me."<p>

Her call on Lorelai's borrowed cell-phone reached him in the apartment above the diner.

"But it went okay?"

"Yeah, it went okay. You?"

"Me what?"

"Tarzan, obviously, but I meant with Luke."

"Right," he said. And stopped.

"So? How'd it go?"

"Uh ..."

"Jess ..."

"Look, I'll tell him, alright? Relax."

"I know it's scary but -"

"Jeez, I'm not scared of him. You think -"

"It's awkward then. But we talked about this, and it's just -"

"I know. Said I would, didn't I? And I'm -"

"A man of your word, yes. I believe you."

"Good."

"So tell me about your - -Oh my ..." she trailed off, distracted.

"What?"

"That's just ..."

"Rory, come on, what's -"

"My mom's here."

"There? At your -"

"Yep. In the parking lot," she said with the evenness of recovered equanimity. "In a car full of balloons."

Like it happened every day.

"'Course she is." Flat in the absence of scepticism.

Like he expected nothing less.

Less brightly she went on, "Guess I'm not going to catch you at the bus stop."

"Guess not."

"Sorry."

"No biggie," he said. "So ... tomorrow night?"

"Yeah." Lorelai was waving. "Tomorrow."

"You better be smiling now, or your mom's gonna think you flunked it."

"I'm smiling."

She stopped biting her lip to make it true. Ducked and gave a self-conscious wave to her mother twenty yards away.

"Good," he said. "So, go get food-drunk or whatever."

"I honestly just let my hair down."

"Torturer."

"Feels good," she taunted, cradling the phone with her shoulder and rolling the elastic hair-band onto her wrist.

"Evil-doer."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

"So ... bye."

"Later."

* * *

><p>It was a restless night.<p>

* * *

><p>In the morning, Jess was twitching fingers in his hair in front of the mirror, eyeing Luke replacing ledgers in the safe. The first time they spoke beyond a grunt, Jess said, "So, I'm off at eight then I'm outta here, okay?"<p>

"Yeah, okay."

"And I'm gonna have an order for take-out, so -"

"Fine. Just put it through with -"

"The time at the top. Yeah, I know."

"Okay then," was the indifferent reply.

A minute or so passed and Luke was pouring orange juice into two glasses as Jess looked round and asked blandly, "So, you got plans or ...?"

"Tonight? Nah. Taylor's evicting some poor schmuck for breathin' loud or something, so Nicole's pulling overtime."

"Huh." _So much for that idea._ "D'you think he knows someone'll take him out at some point, or -"

"Doesn't have a clue," smirked Luke. "I'm liking my odds in the sweep more and more."

"September, right? You know it doesn't count if it's you."

"Back at'ya."

_You have to tell him, Jess. You can't just stay out all night and not tell him where you are. He'll worry. Then hit the roof, maybe. You have to tell him._

Looking studiedly back into the mirror, Jess said, "So, I'm gonna be at Rory's."

"Yeah, I figured." Luke drained his juice and looked amused. "How's your withdrawal?"

Whiplash as Jess turned, wide-eyed. "What?"

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "She and Lorelai had their blowout after her finals last night, right? And you two been livin' in each other's pockets these past couple' weeks, so I reckon you gotta be in some serious withdrawal after not seeing her for a whole 24 hours now."

"Be still my aching sides," Jess said in caustic monotone, frowning hard at his reflection.

"Man, you got it so bad, don'tcha?"

"Shut up."

"Nah, I think it's cute."

"Shut up, or -"

"Seriously, I think it's great. She seems happy -"

"She is."

"Good. And you - -Well, when you're with her -"

"Yeah, thanks for the review, but shut up now, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

_You have to tell him._

Rummaging in a drawer, Jess heard Luke rinse his glass. The abrupt faucet. Squeak of the glass under pressure from the cloth that dried it.

Still blindly turning over the drawer's contents, Jess said, "Look, I'm staying over there, so -"

The cloth stilled. "What?"

"I'll see you for my shift," he finished, ignoring the interjection.

"Jess, what're you -"

"I'm staying there," Jess repeated, closing the drawer. "What's not to understand?"

Luke tossed the cloth on the counter and set down the glass. "And Lorelai's okayed this?"

"Yeah," came the reply as Jess ducked off to grab a book from the floor by his bed. Flipped through it intently.

Luke crossed the apartment to get Jess in sight then stated half-questioningly, "So she'll be there."

Snap of a shut book. Jess already moving, passing Luke into the apartment's center and Luke wheeling round.

"No."

"Then no way," said Luke. Definitive. Square palm cleaving the air.

"Honestly?" said Jess, picking up a pencil from the kitchen table then looking his approaching uncle in the eye. "I don't think you get a vote."

Luke closed faster into the room to stand across from Jess at the table, voice rising with his temper. "Hey, I get a vote because you're living here, and you're my nephew, and -"

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be from now on?" Jess burst out. "Threaten to kick me out every five seconds? No way I signed on for -"

Taken aback, Luke softened slightly. "Come on, Jess," something like a plea in his tone, "that's not - -I mean you can't just ..."

"What? I can't _what_, Luke?"

"Jess, she's a nice girl."

"And?"

"She's got college soon."

"So?"

"So she's gotta stay outta trouble."

"And by trouble you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Firmer after the wearying catechism.

"Lemme get this straight, you figure she's gonna be celibate all through college? What, town's got some kinda sacrifice going down or something? 'Cos I gotta warn -"

"Jess, this is serious."

"Yeah," an undertone affirmed, "I know. So serious it's gonna make me homeless, apparently."

"Look, I'm not saying - -Jess, I've known her since she was this high." Gentler. Entreating with the gesture. "And Lorelai. So -"

"Lorelai knows, like I said. I'd say 'Go ask her,' but when Rory said I had to tell you I'd be over there tonight, I'm pretty sure she didn't expect _you and her mom_ to start chatting about this stuff behind her back. Pretty sure she didn't expect this," and Jess motioned between them, "either, but whatever."

"But - -I don't get it. How's Lorelai on board with this?"

"Uh, maybe because she trusts Rory? You know, the prep. school Valedictorian who got accepted to three Ivy League colleges? Because she's smart, remember? Maybe that's got something to do with it."

"Jess, I know Rory's smart, okay?"

"But I'm not?"

"Hey, no one's calling you stupid -"

"Great. So what makes you think you've gotta look out for her?" Jess stood straighter and folded his arms, looking thoughtful. "Really. I'm curious."

"Oh for the love of - -I don't know, but I - -I'm s'posed to just be okay about all this?"

"What happened to thinking it's great?"

"That was before y-"

"Rory's happy you said, right?"

"Right, but -"

"Okay, so what the hell's your problem?"

"My problem?" Luke escalated. "My problem is my nephew just told me he's not coming home tonight. _That's_ my problem."

Shaking his head, Jess's eyes rolled askance and not quite under his breath he said, "Knew I should've bet more."

"What did you say?"

"I said 'Gee, thanks, Uncle Luke. You just won me five bucks.'"

"Don't change the -"

"'Cos honesty's overrated, right?" Luke's uncomprehending expression spurred him to add flippantly, "Yeah, that's what I said, but -"

"Jess, you better start making sense or -"

"Rory doesn't get it though, does she? She's got this idea that if you're honest, people start trusting you. But, hey, five bucks is five bucks, so -"

Stung, Luke drew his head back as his hands flew up, snapping, "Don't turn this 'round on me like I'm the bad guy here -"

"'Cos that's me, right?" Jess's chin jutted up sharply. "Beautiful. And she says I'm Walter Mitty."

"Who?"

"Forget it. I'm outta here." A hand batting back as he made to leave.

"Hey! We're not done here."

Jess turned abruptly at the door, vociferous as he spat, "No? 'Cos I'm done standin' here listenin' to you imply that I'm an asshole -"

"I didn't -"

"- -Who not only doesn't _deserve_ Rory, but who -"

"That's not -"

"- -Actually wants to hurt her or something. So, yeah, I'm done. Get outta my way."

Jess grabbed his coat off the rack, but Luke had moved in front of the door and said, "Nope, so you just -"

"I said -"

"No, Jess, it's not gonna be like this anymore."

Frustration sent Jess's wild eyes down to where his fist clutched his jacket. Luke landed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. Not heavily. Gripped but didn't push. "You hearin' this?"

Jess looked up scowling and flexed the shoulder. The hand was lifted, palm up in semi-submission. But Luke was still stern faced when he continued, "I'm not threatening to kick you out every five minutes, and you're not slamming outta here every three. You got that?"

Tendons springing behind clamped knuckles, Jess stared up at Luke unflinchingly. Luke's hand was withdrawn from the door-knob and he slowly lowered the other.

He watched Jess turn his eyes aside. Saw his head drop forward as he raked fingers through his hair and made a momentary fist in it. Heard him exhale raggedly as he stepped back, cast the jacket towards his bed and missed.

Stalking into the kitchen, Jess jolted back against the sink. Folded his arms. Luke sighed as he propped himself heavily on the back of a kitchen chair.

"Look," said Luke, "I know you've had it rough these past few - -Uh ..." He paused and cleared his throat. Jess glared at the apartment door's glazed fanlight beyond his uncle's head.

"For a while," Luke tried. "And with school and working a lot - -Then, you know, along came Jimmy, just to completely -"

Luke shook his head and saw Jess still impassive. Still looking just past him. He began again. "And the stuff with Rory and Dean, I mean -"

At this, Jess turned his glare on Luke and said bitterly, "So you ever give him one of your 'You touch her, you die' speeches? Or he get your blessing, maybe. Anointed, like at a ceremony or something."

"I never liked that kid and you know it, so don't -"

"No? Then maybe you should send out flyers - -Want-ads, maybe. You know, to _really_ find the right guy." He added a new thought quickly, "But you're screening anyone who's gonna be in her Yale classes, right? Her professors and -"

"Stop."

"Seriously, frat houses and -" Breaking off, Jess pointed at Luke knowingly. "Wait now, what about those European men? You got a plan for them?"

"Stop it, Jess, I mean it. This is about you and Rory."

"Huh. So remind me how this is your business again?"

Luke straightened suddenly, shoving the chair hard, and it clattered noisily against the table. "Because believe it or not, I give a damn about the both of you, and I don't want you throwing your lives away."

Jess lunged forward and drew himself up taller, thrusting his chin up as he said, "Hey, I'm careful, alright? Haven't wrecked anyone's life yet and not planning to either."

Luke took an instinctive step back. "Well that's -"

But Jess cut him off, erupting fiercely, "You think I'd do that to Rory? Jesus Christ, Luke, I guess I'm getting a good idea what you really think of me, huh?"

His uncle swept an arm out. "You're overreacting. I don't -"

"Oh, _I'm_ overreacting?" Stiff fingers poked his own chest. "That's -"

"Jess, shut up for second, okay? We both gotta just ..."

Luke took a deep breath, pressing his hands down in the air in front of him. Jess gripped the chair-back, still breathing fast and biting down hard on his lip.

After a moment Luke steepled his fingers and said, "Okay, first off, I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt Rory. I got eyes, don't I?"

"You actually want a response, or -"

Luke ignored him. "You care about her, right?"

"'Course I care about her, jeez. Not that it's -"

"My business. Yeah. You said that. Second of all, I don't know what you think - -If you think I'm saying you're a bad person or what, but I'm not, okay? Fine, no question you can be a pain in the ass, and god knows sometimes I wonder why it seems like you're trying to screw yourself over so badly, but I -"

Luke drew his hand down his face wearily, then looked his nephew in the eye. "You're not a bad kid, Jess. Not a walk in the park maybe, but then I'm not either, so - -Anyway, quit acting like I said you're a monster or something."

"Seriously? 'Cos the 'devil incarnate' stuff was pretty heavily implied."

"Jess -"

Shrugging, Jess said, "Then I don't get it."

"I'm just ... concerned, I guess. About both of you. What with everything that's been goin' on lately - - This ... It's not exactly something I want to think about, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd hope not," Jess retorted, refolding his arms and leaning a shoulder against the side of the refrigerator.

"Don't be a wise-ass. It's a big deal, you know?"

"Huh. You think?"

"So what's the rush all of a sudden?"

"Six months," Jess said matter-of-factly. "Six months is sudden to you?"

"Well, maybe not, but still," Luke trailed off.

"Still what? 'Cos she's nailed-on for Valedictorian, you know? And Paris was off her meds when she said that stuff about colleges and Rory and -"

"No, come on, I know all that. But you got stuff you're dealin' with too, and she's on that crazy trip with Lorelai soon - -You're probably gonna be in Wherever, California, then she's heading to Yale and - -You're sure you're not rushing it?"

"None of that made sense."

"Jess, I know what it's like to be a guy, okay? I get it."

His nephew just looked bemused, an eyebrow climbing higher. Luke persevered, "You're not trying to, you know ... Prove something? Hold on to her, maybe?"

Jess frowned and looked down, shaking his head. But when he met Luke's eye again it was clear he was silently laughing.

Luke grimaced and opened his mouth, but Jess finally managed, "You think that's -" before he broke off, adding in mock-earnestness, "Hey, you think maybe Rory's trying that on me?"

A harder grimace. "That's not funny, Jess."

"No? Come on, it's a little funny." But the deepening lines in Luke's expression prompted Jess to say, "Oh-kay. Not." There was no smile when he shrugged a shoulder and said, "Whatever. I got nothin' to prove."

"If you say so."

"Yeah, I do say so." Still, the harsh tone fell away and Jess sighed, his brow contracting. "But look, it's not like - -We're good, alright?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So relax. Diner's not gonna open itself you know."

"What? Oh, right. So, uh, you're -"

"Jeez, we're done now, yes?"

"Just a sec. So you're serious?"

"About what?"

"About Rory."

Jess clenched his jaw and took a slow breath. Luke stared at him.

Finally, Jess gritted out, "Yes." Shot an arm towards the door. "Can I go to work now?"

"Yeah, okay. But just ..."

Jess had made it to the door but stopped at it, though he didn't turn around.

"Listen," Luke finished, "I know you will be. I'm trusting you on this, Jess. But I still gotta say it, so be careful. Now go open up and I'll be down in a minute."

At the door a hint of a nod and Jess was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. Thanks too to those of you who review.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

* * *

><p><em>"Listen, I know you will be. I'm trusting you on this, Jess. But I still gotta say it, so be careful. Now go open up..."<em>

A little after 2.30 Lorelai barrelled through the diner's door, finding it quiet except for Reverend Skinner picking chocolate muffin crumbs off his plate with one finger, and Jess reading behind the counter, propped on one elbow with a pencil behind his ear. He looked up at the sound of the bell and saw her slow her approach to the counter.

To his uncertain look she offered a flash of a smile and a cheery-sounding, "Hey, Jess."

"Uh, hi. Coffee, right?" he said, already turning for the pot.

"Trick question?" She dropped her purse on the counter and seated herself somewhat to the right of it and him.

"Guess so."

"How's things?" she asked him mid-pour.

He replaced the coffee pot, shrugging with his back to her. "Things're good."

"Good," came over the noise of flicked sugar packets. Lorelai stirred and took a hasty sip.

In the pause he marked something on a page with the pencil, still intent as he asked her back, "You?"

"Oh, same, yeah," she said past the mug's rim, "Good." Then, belatedly, "Thanks."

Set it down and stirred needlessly again.

He closed the book and crammed it into his back pocket, so it was the top of his head Lorelai saw when he said, "Rory?"

"She's good too."

Nodding almost compulsively, she stilled it to add lightly, "Not that we weren't both a little bleary this morning - -But, you know, Poptarts are like hair of the dog for the post-finals, post-movie-marathon sugar-crash, so we were prepared like all good girl-scouts."

"Huh."

She pressed on. "Yeah, so ... apparently inspiration struck at stupid o'clock this morning, so the valedictorian speech is in second draft already. Plus she's way ahead on proofing stuff for the paper because, well: caffeine and _Bride of Chucky_. - -That and I'm a bad mother. Anyway, she's probably read at least a novel and a half plus a play by now 'cos she said she just wanted to dive right into a pile of books that weren't for class before Paris hauls her in again tomorrow."

"Right."

Lorelai made a frown to add sternly, "At least six of 'em brought over by you, mister. So you better stop encouraging her, m'kay? 'Cos I'm damned if I'm dusting any more, and I'm guessing you're not looking to get added to the chore-rota we routinely ignore?"

He smirked. "Allergies. Sorry."

"To dust or feather dusters?"

"Chores."

"A fellow sufferer, eh? Oh, and you _have_ to tell her she can't take more than half a dozen books to Europe. - -No hardbacks either! My face is getting blue, and that's not pretty."

"Blue huh?"

"The bluest."

Scratching a temple thoughtfully, he made a face and said, "I would, but I'm having a hard time deciding my best interest here. Siding with your girlfriend's mom might ingratiate you with her -"

"No question," Lorelai nodded firmly.

"Ah, but siding against your girlfriend probably isn't the smartest move, is it?"

It was Lorelai's turn to make a face. "Hmm. Dilemma-palooza."

"I know, right? So I think I'm better off if I'm as Swiss as possible on this."

"I get it," she said begrudgingly. And only half affecting it.

"You want a menu or -"

"No, it's okay. Just re-caffeinating."

"Refill, then? Yeah, I know, trick question."

"Yep. Hi, Luke," she said as he emerged from the kitchen. "You've got a feather duster, haven't you?"

Used to her non sequiturs, Luke only frowned for a second before answering, "Did have but -"

Lorelai spluttered in her mug but recovered to speculate, "Maid's costume wore out?"

Reverend Skinner chuckled as he stood beside Lorelai, settling his bill with an equally amused Jess.

Ignoring all of them, Luke finished, "Jess is allergic."

Jess rolled his eyes and made for the stairs to the apartment, already behind the curtain when he raised his voice. "On my break."

The Reverend, still creased with near-mute laughter, raised his hand to acknowledge Luke before turning to leave. The bell sounded at the door.

Lorelai stopped snickering long enough to sip her coffee after several aborted attempts, then took up her spoon and said, "Seems like he's doing okay after everything."

"Yeah, he is I think," Luke said, rifling through some paper slips and spiking one.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"You and him then. You two getting along okay?"

"We, uh, we have an understanding. Working at it, you know?"

"Good."

"Not eating?"

"No, but Jess asked though, if it's performance-review time."

"Hah." The register drawer rang shut. "He'd love that."

"Get him another plaque," she proposed, sketching it in the air with the sweep of her hand. "Ooh, with a little light above it! And I get invited to the presentation this time, okay?"

"Oh, he'd love _that._"

"Sure he would," she said in her sincerest tones. And her smile grew as his did. That the schadenfreude made his arms fold. Satisfied. "But anyway, I'm trying to reign myself in a little on the gluttony-front -"

"Jeez, the apocalypse already? You weren't gonna warn me?"

She pantomimed a cough and continued, "Because Sookie's cooking a feast for the starving business-planners tonight. - -Hey, you should come over. We could really use your advice," she said seriously, dropping her chin on her fist. "And your _Cocktail_-style booze-serving skills," she added with a grin. "You've got those, right?"

"Uh, I -"

"Oh, I'm dumb, you've probably got plans with Nicole. Forget I said -"

"I haven't. Got plans, I mean. Or any skills in common with terrible 80s movies."

"You can't _Flashdance_ then either? Way to destroy the fantasy, Luke."

The look he gave her made her continue quickly, "But come over to Sookie's? Advise us, oh great and powerful Oz. Or get a teensy-bit wasted on a Tuesday, whatever you prefer."

"Yeah, I don't know," Luke said looking down to realign two salt and pepper shakers.

"Well, we'll be there anyway," she said. Chipper as ever. Almost relaxed. "Standing invite for you, my friend. Something's got to take our minds off tonight, hasn't it?"

Despite the diner being empty, her voiced had dropped. Luke put both hands on the counter and leaned forward.

"You mean ...?"

It hung there in the air between them and Lorelai nodded, pressing her lips together in something like a smile. "Yep. I _mean_. Helluvalotta meaning right here. Not that I'm worried or anything. Just, um -"

"Concerned, right?" Luke interceded. "That's normal, isn't it? Parental? Or quasi-parental, anyway."

"Concerned sounds about right. But then I've only got the one kid, so laying a claim to 'normal' might be stretching it."

"Sure, I mean, you're you."

"And you're _you_," she retorted, "so I'm going to take that as a compliment, and you can't stop me. Seriously though, the only other experience I could draw on would include my crazy parents. And we both know -"

"Right, right. But you trust Rory, right? She's sensible."

"Definitely. Luke, believe me, she's no Mini-Me on that score. We're talking lightyears ahead. Or behind. Or ... away at least. Sure, I mean, these kind of ..." She paused to choose the word. It came with a meaningful look. "Uh, _situations_ could put a dent in anyone's ability to be sensible, but yeah, I trust Rory. And she trusts Jess."

"Honestly? Me too. Both of 'em. 'Course I'm still -"

"Concerned. But that's _totally_ normal," she assured him with a glint in her eye.

"Right. Normal."

Luke looked into the middle distance for a moment. Lorelai stared into her empty mug.

Recalling himself finally, Luke said, "But I guess this," and he gestured between them, "I mean, you and me - -We shouldn't ..."

"What?"

"You know." But Lorelai looked puzzled, forcing him to clarify conspiratorially out of the side of his mouth, "Talk. Behind their backs or whatever."

"Oh! That. Right. Yeah. I mean, no. No, we shouldn't. Place's got enough Eastside Tillys and Pattys as it is, and we damn well can't compete with them. Unless you're considering drag?"

"Maid's outfit wore out," he deadpanned.

"Right. And they came to us and told us, so -"

"And that's, uh, good." Luke paused. "Isn't it?"

"Yep. Good. Not fun to hear, but -"

"God no. No way," he interjected, suddenly animated. Relieved but recoiling. "Jeez."

He shivered.

"But good still," Lorelai resumed. "That they told us."

Quietened and resigned, Luke shrugged as he said, "Yeah. And I guess they, uh - -They gotta, like, trust us too. Maybe."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Me? I'm shutting up right now."

"And now I _really_ know the world's ending. Refill?"

"To go, please."

* * *

><p>Rory <em>had<em> read, but not until she'd filed away her revision notes and written her journal for the preceding day, biting her lip at the blank page following it. Blanker when she dated it. Pen dots in the margin where she was lost in thought.

She added a decision-diamond to the flowchart for the Student Government hand-over pack. Retyped the word quorate four times because it just looked wrong. Quorate. _Quorate_.

And not until she'd wiped over the kitchen table, thrown out empty Chinese cartons, and discarded candy-wrappers strewn across the living-room. Fluffed couch-cushions and vacuumed.

Not until she'd turned her attention on her own room, changing sheets and dusting books piled under her bed, glad she'd bagged up soft toys for storage months ago.

Not until she'd showered off the dust.

Which, actually, had made tackling the bathroom easier. Steam softening the thin film of grime. Still, clearing aside what seemed like hundreds of jars and bottles and tubes and pots had felt like the most arduous task in the end.

And then she tried to read.

Stopped.

Spent forty-eight minutes picking out what to wear.

Lane's underwear crisis was dwarfed by comparison. Recent months had seen it evolve from a familiar thought experiment into something with practical application, no matter how rare or seemingly random, but this was just ... _way out of proportion_, she decided firmly.

But apt to be infinitely distracting. And flustering. Making her flush. And blush. And feel stupid.

She broke off undecided and spent a quarter of an hour retooling the lead sentence of Brent's round-up of the 'Year in Sports' at Chilton. But when she moved on to the body of the article, it was clear either the whole thing needed major surgery, or she was working in one of her blind spots.

Resolving that it was the latter, Rory cast around for her book. Not on the bed. Not under the bed. Not under the bedspread.

When it finally came to light, she smacked her forehead.

Underwear drawer.

Chiding herself she closed the dresser and opened the book. Beginning to regret she had a whole day to fill, even with so much to do.

...

Before Lorelai left in the morning, she said to her daughter, "So you know where I am if you want to call and talk. Or I could duck out of work and come home if you like. Come down with a nasty case of _Pendular __Plumbosis_? Oh, or call me at Sookie's because I'm not really going to get hammered, so -"

"I know where you are, Mom. And I'll call if I need you. I promise."

"Great. Excellent. Great."

"Yup. Pretty great."

"And you've got everything you need? Like, you know, stuff -"

"Stuff I've got. And things. And doodads and gew-gaws and paraphernalia. I'm covered on the stuff-having front."

"Great. And Jess is going to feed you, right? Not _feed_ you, feed you, but I mean -"

"He's bringing food, yes. We'll be fine, Mom. Really. Stop worrying."

"Who's worrying? I'm not worried. Alfred E Newman's got nothing on me. I know you're going to be fine. 'Course. Why wouldn't you be? You're fine. I know that. Sure."

"Oh-kay then."

Lorelai gave a couple of scrunches to the roots of her hair in the hallway mirror. Rory watched her and saw her mother wrinkle her nose and peer into the glass.

Another few moments went by as Lorelai plucked at a thread on her skirt before she ventured, "So, I get to come back here, right? In the morning. Before work?"

Rory twisted her hands together, saying, "Oh, I hadn't - -But yeah. Of course."

"I just figured I'd like to stay friends with Sookie and Jackson, and hogging their bathroom and hot water might not help with that, so -"

Rory nodded quickly. "Yeah, makes sense. Um, so do you - -Should I, like, maybe -"

"Jess eats breakfast, probably, you think? Cereal, toast, week-old pad thai, that kind of thing? Not that it matters. 'Cos as long as there's still hot water I'll be all kinds of happy."

"Really?"

"Really. About, say, seven-thirty? I've told Sookie to leave the guests' breakfast to Pavel, so she'll hopefully whip up something scrummy for us and, dammit, I think I just realised what a terrible cupboard-love friend I am. So, yeah. I'd say seven-thirty'll be about right."

"Okay. I don't actually know if -"

"Hey it's just FYI, babe. _In flagrante delicto_ might have a great ring to it, but the reality doesn't measure up. Take my word for it, okay?"

"Message received. Count on us to be up, dressed, and one of us possibly gone before you get here. Not that you should take it personally, though. Really. I just didn't ask if he's got an early shift or -"

"Total non-issue, sweets."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Okay, well, I better hit the road before the place burns down again or something. So, um, I guess I'll be seeing you ... tomorrow."

"Right," Rory said with a nod. Smile edging itself upwards.

"Now slouch and act small, so when I hug you I don't feel like you're eighteen all of a sudden and about to empty my nest."

They hugged and Rory said into her mother's shoulder, "You can piggyback me around the entire continent of Europe if it'll help you feel less broody, Marmee."

"Yeah, big fat 'No' and buh-bye," said Lorelai as she slipped out of the door.

"Don't drink and math then," Rory called over the front lawn.

"Same to you except for the math part," her mother called back with a gameshow wink that belied her vicarious nerves.

Rory's surfaced as soon as the front door closed, and they stayed pretty much all day.

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before Jess too wished he didn't have an entire day to kill. Working should have taken his mind off it.<p>

It didn't.

It often didn't.

This was worse.

The breakfast rush had temporarily provided distraction. Except it was more the lingering burn of the confrontation upstairs. Resentment smouldering down into something like relief. But not exactly relief because Luke was acting weird, and the loud diner sounded strange without him barking orders and taking Jess to task for scowling at the customers.

Admittedly, Jess was pulling his weight. Shuttling back and forth between out front and the kitchen, largely because he didn't want to spend any time in either place. Or in anyone's company.

In the diner the hordes passed around their summer colds, clattering and spluttering as they scarfed down their breakfasts. Turning Jess's empty stomach, frankly. And more than usual, even though he hadn't been hungry before they started filing through the door like something out of _Dawn of the Dead_.

While in the back was Luke. Avoiding his eye but caught looking at him sidelong. Apparently keeping his distance to the extent of visibly taking a step out of Jess's way as he shot through doorways and around corners, head down and hands full.

And then, out of nowhere, reaching a bussed table's contents out of Jess's grasp at the same time as clapping a paw on the side of his arm and telling him, "Go unload stuff out back, alright? Place's getting quieter, but if _I'm_ feelin' like this is the day Kirk learns how far a fork'll fit up his nose, god knows I don't wanna get held responsible for whatever it is _you're_ thinking of doin' to that wackjob."

Jess had just nodded and headed out to the store-room, assuming he'd pulled off looking as blank as possible and trying to be indifferent as to whether Luke's eyes following him were sympathetic or suspicious. Maddening either way.

But when Luke came through looking for ranch dressing and stood scanning a shelf several feet behind his nephew, Jess raised his voice. "You know, your problem's gonna be finding a long enough fork."

Luke's forehead creased unseen. "I don't - -You mean for Kirk?"

"Yeah, 'cos there's gotta be a jar 'round here small enough if you're following through on the whole Ancient Egyptian vibe." Jess shrugged. "Issue's with the fork."

Luke had left the store-room chuckling to himself.

As it happened, Jess hadn't found Kirk any worse than usual, concluding instead that Luke might just be more on-edge than he was. Although when his late-morning break had rolled around, he found himself back there stacking shelves again out of sheer frustration with being unable to focus on his book when he'd headed upstairs. And he had no inclination to put himself on display by trying to read in any of his usual outdoor haunts.

In addition to the fact that school was out for Stars Hollow's seniors, what did come to mind when the words swam on the page wasn't anything he wanted to be thinking in public. Or in the hugely imperfect privacy afforded by the open-plan apartment.

No walls and no excuse for a shower. No money and not a chance in hell of getting his own place. No way he would consider sharing air and rent and close quarters with the natives.

The lunch rush had mainly been annoying. Surrounded by the prying, gossiping freaks with more leisure than the breakfast crowd. Hearing them pry and gossip and freak about everyone not currently seated immediately in front of them. And even about that person just as soon as they happened to leave.

Not speaking ill of the dead, but her red velvet cake was always hard. A lift and a tuck now, as well as the obvious. Vanity, really. That terrible lawn and yes, someone really should take his keys. It ran in the family. The poor children. Blamed the dog but you could tell. Not one for jewellery, so, you know. Round her wrist and so dark. Underneath.

Two pairs of unlucky seniors caught separately in cars after prom. Another couple woken by a dog-walker beside Larson's Dock. A too well-lit corner of the school's lot. Backstreet outside an after-party. Miss Patty didn't blame them: "Please, so nubile? Such temptation," but shared the stories anyway.

Kyle's party was old news a week ago, though Dean's engagement still warranted some comment. Cursorily wishing them the best but, so young? Nice enough kids, but did they know what they were doing? Was it smart? All that money and probably ending in tears before they were twenty. A shame, but what can you do? Here's your hat and what's your hurry. Young people these days, just not as sensible as the elder generation at their age. Wishing them luck though, of course. They'd need it.

Talk about Rory. Words like graduation. Valedictorian. Yale. Smart and beautiful and going far. Grown up so fast. Leaving them. For Europe. New Haven. (The dump.) Then far-flung, war-torn, scandalous places she'd fall in love with. All sounding like so much snakes' hiss which made him hear his name. Rebuking himself for paranoia and giving a damn what they thought in the first place.

Glad when the place finally cleared but still struggling to concentrate on Garcia Marquez with Skinner's dog-collar provoking him from the corner, although he usually tolerated the friendly preacher who regularly told jokes about tightfisted Taylor with the Rabbi.

Who ate a muffin that slowly, anyway? Weird to enjoy - - no, _relish_ - - it so much. Made you wonder. Then made your skin-crawl. Jeez.

And Christ, Lorelai. Perfect.

So when he left her and Luke _tete a teting_-it downstairs, it was with real effort that he resisted calling Rory. Just to tell her how it went with Luke. Badly but he'd finally shut the hell up. That she owed him five bucks. Maybe find out what she'd been reading. And if asked back? "Not much." Tell her her mom was here, trying to freak him out by being civil. Miss Congeniality because she must've got whacked in the head and forgotten. (About tonight.)

But she'd be busy, probably. And he wasn't up for looking desperate. Maybe she'd call him.

* * *

><p>Rory got through until just before 3pm, surprised when her mother hadn't called and hadn't dropped by the house 'by chance' on an 'errand' somewhere 'else'. She didn't know that Lorelai was restraining herself from doing just that, opting to go to Luke's when she'd finally convinced herself not to call in on Rory.<p>

So Rory had made it through. Not quite 3pm. Time 'til now spent repaginating, re-editing, restructuring, rehearsing. (Not reading.)

Deleting as many words as she added to her speech. Cursing the collaborative writing-ethic of the Drama Club. Because not everything lends itself to improv.

Will-power enough to resist trying on her prom dress. But not the shoes; they needed wearing in anyway. Getting pricked by the pins in the dress for graduation and nixing the dress rehearsal.

Daydreaming and staring into the refrigerator, where nothing made her hungry.

Alphabetising. Re-considering genres but deciding it didn't work beyond Drama, Poetry, Fiction and Non-fiction. Too much arbitrary division with implicit value-judgment. Detective fiction and crime fiction. Chandler and Dostoyevsky.

And just because it felt like her reading-brain had left the building, she doubted she'd actually manage to forget authors' names.

Still not 3pm. Too early for a bath. And who ran a bath when it was still light outside? Except it was getting darker later, but still. It was so early. Too early. Deciding to leave her nails free of polish but paint her toenails. Red and just ... special. Usually unseen. Unexpected and so, maybe ... sexy? Maybe.

Or simply stupid because would he even notice, and why did she want him to? What was she expecting? And, god, why was she even still thinking about it?

Before 3pm and she wanted to call him. But the toenail thing made it weird. Not being able to tell him what she'd been doing all day because she'd been so distracted. Seriously, toenails? Ridiculous. Because she wasn't stupid. Wasn't that girl. Just missed him and wanted to know how it went with Luke, and whether he was grounded, and what then? But he was busy, and she wasn't desperate. And she couldn't imagine talking to him right now anyway. (Stupid toenails.) He'd call her if he had anything to say.

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><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading. And this is a double episode, so read on if you fancy it ...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary**: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.

**Disclaimer**: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.

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><p>Hearing his knock, she made the effort to slow herself down. Legs. Walking. (Heart unslowable.) But the door still opened faster than he'd anticipated, not least because he'd been checking over his shoulder for twitching in Babette's window, seeing none.<p>

So it was mainly that which she saw as she greeted him but couldn't identify: _deliberately unstartled. _Not dissimilar to her own travesty of casualness as she said, "Hey," and got it returned, though she was in the process of drawing back from the kiss she'd intended because of the box in his arms.

Awkward.

Until he passed by her and she laid a restraining hand on his arm, lifting needlessly on her toes and pressing her lips where his cheek had been but lips were now; he'd looked round when she'd stopped him.

Still awkward.

Shocked eyes closing. Instinct's kick. Press of response.

Eased more when he smiled.

"Hi," climbed notes higher than she wanted as she dropped back on her heels. He didn't call out her redundancy, but she felt it and skipped a pace in front of him, heading towards the kitchen, asking, "What did you bring? Apart from a lot, that is."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, dropping the box on the table and unloading it as she joined him. "Wanted to make sure you got what you wanted. I've seen that look when you want to try what everyone else is getting. Or -"

"Hey, I don't do -"

"- -Ordered, I mean."

"Fine, maybe I do. Sit then. Soda?"

"Nothing stronger?"

"Jess."

"Relax. I'm kidding. Soda's fine."

"Eat then, Mr. Hicks, before I crack a rib," she said, seating herself and absentmindedly unscrewing the ketchup bottletop. "You don't normally have to be told twice."

"Huh. You know I quit, right?"

"Quit what, eating? Drinking? It's not ketchup, is it? Because I don't think -"

"Jeez, I meant smoking, but you know what, maybe I did hear something once about 'ole Bill's problem with the red stuff."

"Right, smoking. Because you never picked up that nasty segue habit everybody else has, did you?"

"Just lucky, I guess."

"That must be it. And I'm still going to think you've given up eating unless you put something on that plate there, mister."

"Never not a despot," he said, reaching for a takeout box with Ch/B on its lid in felt marker.

"Cram it. Oh, and you smoke when you're nervous, so there."

"Think you got me confused with someone else."

"Oh, sure."

"What? Said you didn't want me to die a slow and painful death, remember? Probably up there somewhere as one of the most romantic things anyone ever said to me."

"Aww, don't be cruel."

"Who's being cruel? Not wanting me dead? I'd say that's gotta mean something pretty big."

"Maybe I was just saying you deserved quick and painless."

"Nice. _Real _nice, Rory. You're heartless, you know that?"

"Fine. I don't want you to die in any way, shape, or form. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Think I'll add it to the list of declarations for the ages."

"Good. But before you do that, eat. Before it gets all cold and gross."

"You're one to talk," he said, gesturing at her plate. "But are you gonna eat the fry or snap it into a million pieces? What, you figure you can keep the others in line with a public execution?"

"They need to know I can't be crossed." It was meant to be a menacing frown.

He sighed theatrically. "And only one day from retirement."

"With a family and saintly mother to support, I heard."

"Ketchup really adds something," he said, framing her plate with his hands.

"Oh, the humanity." But her brow re-furrowed, then she tried, "Frymanity?"

"Don't look at me. I think you're nuts."

"Ah," she said, "but you love it." Snapping down on a fry for the first time. Laughing in her eyes.

He feigned indifference as he slung an arm over the back of his chair and leaned back. "'Spite of it, maybe."

"Oh, now _that _one definitely tops my list."

"Huh. Good to know."

She pointed an accusing fry in his direction. "And you started personifying -"

"No, _you _started it," he remonstrated, launching himself forward and gesticulating, "when you made your plate a bloodbath."

"It is a massacre, isn't it?" Looking down at it and wrinkling her nose.

"Yep."

"Okay, but can we stop the commentary now? Or I'll be forced to analyse what you're doing to that burger."

"Autopsy?"

"Yes, and moreover, eww. But, please, just -"

"Okay, okay," he said, and returned to picking over the fragments of salad and sesame seeds that littered his plate. Reaching for the salt he said, "So I was thinking about what you said about poetry -"

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><p>"Wow, Mom and I are going to be living off leftovers for a month," she remarked as she layered containers in the refrigerator.<p>

He passed her another off the counter. "Looks like it."

Straightening, she said, "You could take some back if you wanted."

"Nah. Luke doesn't eat that stuff."

"No, he doesn't." She pressed the door and it closed with quiet suction. "I forgot."

Twisting her fingers, she cast her eye around the room, not quite balanced on the outsides of her feet. Beside her, he braced himself against the counter-top behind him. Followed her eyes to take his own look around the kitchen.

Waiting.

Her bedroom door was open as she looked over her shoulder. The living room was dark.

Before she drew blood in her lip, she tore out, "You want to watch a movie, maybe?"

Eyes harder to force up but finally managed.

Him caught staring at her fingers, drawing a breath before meeting her eye with a short nod. "Sure. Okay."

She curled a finger around one of his as she headed into the next room. "You can pick."

But when she loosed her hold and stood in front of the shelves that housed the Gilmores' cinematic library, he dropped onto the couch and shrugged one shoulder, saying, "S'okay. You choose."

"Okay, um ... I don't know. Maybe ... um, no. What about ... probably not. Wait, how about, um -"

"Rory, relax. You're gonna give yourself an aneurysm or something."

"And that would be bad."

"Probably."

"So..."

"Whatever's good. It doesn't matter." Dismissed with a hand's wave from where his arm rested along the couch-back.

"But -"

"Okay, close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

"Fine."

"Now put out your hand. Pick that."

"_Psycho_?"

"Like I said, doesn't matter."

"But ... the screaming. The hacking. The Oedipus complex."

Another shrug. "I don't care. Do you?"

"No, but -"

"Then put it on and c'mere."

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><p>Their faces, the room, lit only in monochrome. Rory pressed the back of her head further into his shoulder when she said, "It's brave, isn't it?"<p>

The arm around her tightened in response as he looked round at her. "What?"

"To kill her off so soon," she clarified, linking their fingers where his fell on her shoulder.

A mute nod and he returned his attention to the movie. Seemingly absorbed even as he observed blandly, "Guy who gives himself a cameo in every movie has some balls."

She sniggered, drawing down eyes that widened in amusement and were unfazed by the soft dig in his ribs from her elbow.

"But he's playing on all our fears too," she said. "Of strange, lonely places ..."

"On your own," he added.

"With weirdos."

"With weirdos who _watch_."

The scandalized tone made her laugh, though the look that he turned on her would have been enough on its own.

Calming, Rory gestured at the screen. "And she's at her most vulnerable. In the - -Like that."

"Naked?"

"Yep." Brevity standing in for breeziness. "That's the one."

Her gaze had become uncannily fixed straight ahead, so he simply said, "Right," and reapplied himself to the unfolding scene.

Regular breathing was the first to return. Then her weight relaxed into his side again, and it was safe to resume his thumb's rhythm against that inch of skin by her knuckle allowed by the tangle of fingers.

Focus broke down soon after her free hand discovered distracted spirals on his thigh.

* * *

><p>Screen-flicker, dark still. Movement in the shadows cast. Palest things easiest to see. Closed eyes opening. Hands. Sudden gleam of skin in the flash of exposure.<p>

"Jess?"

"Mmm?" His mouth where her shirt ruched. Now-stayed knuckles high on his back where she gripped the hem of his.

"I think ... I think - -I don't want to worry about picking up our clothes from around here before tomorrow or losing something and Mom finding it, and -"

"So, through there?" he said, hauling himself upright and gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder.

"Yeah," she breathed, a smile forming as he bobbed his head acceptingly and rose off the couch.

With a last squint into the darkness with the aim of gathering herself and anything incriminating, she turned back and noticed him, battered sneakers dangling in one hand and the other reaching out towards her.

* * *

><p>He sat heavily on her bed as she stowed her shoes in the closet then approached him. Nervous hands rising uncertainly until he took both of them out of the air and held them suspended near his shoulders.<p>

Her eyes on his mouth as he said, "So, just 'cos you got me where you want me now, doesn't mean anything has to happen, you know?"

She coloured but nodded, holding his gaze while his fingers worked on hers. Loosing one of her hands that came to rest on his neck, his travelled to the small of her back, and he added with a smirk, "So go easy on me, okay?"

Fierce kiss, stifling any more he might say.

Piqued.

Intentionally, maybe.

Frustration overbalanced nerves.

* * *

><p>Bedside lamp long fumbled off, it was dark.<p>

His voice. Above her. "You're sure?"

So close but straining to watch her as she nodded. Bit her lip. A second and an unexpected question back.

"Are you?" she said.

"Me?" Her piercing eyes. Swallowing against his thudding heart. "I'm sure."

No room for incredulity.

"Okay." A smile that moved long fingers all the way down his spine. "Me too."

Slow, breathtaking shift.

* * *

><p>Stillness settling in the still dark.<p>

Darker still inside closed eyes.

Hearing a resettling creak before the contrast of thumb-soft touch on her jaw with his half-hoarse, "Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"I love you."

Eyes opened to catch the serious look fracture into something she couldn't see because he kissed her. Though she felt the smirk on her shoulder when he mumbled, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, it's a yes."

"Good."

"You?"

Still unexpected and more time now to grin unseen in the crook of her neck before composing his face. To look her in the eye and say, "I'm good."

"Good," she said, sending hands to find him.

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><p>So late it was early, she rolled out from beside him and switched on the lamp. Taking a robe by the scruff off the back of her door she said, "I'm starving. You want ice-cream?"<p>

He stretched lazily, following her with his eyes as she waited at the foot of the bed. "Found your appetite?"

"Hssht," she said, holding out a finger as if it covered his lips from six feet away. "So, you want anything?"

"Yeah," came out in that 'still stretching' voice as he folded hands behind his head. "But I could eat, I guess."

A pointed look curtailed as she passed through the door, leaving it open and making out he called to her, "Don't s'pose you've got cones?"

She raised her voice to call back, "We did yesterday! I'll see, okay?"

His was an undertone, unheard. "Perfect."

* * *

><p>Small hours. Fastest hours. Not late enough for light.<p>

Turned away but held by the arm round her waist, over and down the edge of the bed she finally let fall, "Jess?"

"Mmm?" Lips not removed from her shoulder, the spread hand on her stomach brushed fingers beside her hip-bone.

"You've - -Have you, um, ever done that ... before? Not, um - -Because you told me, so - -I mean, specifically."

"Which part?" he said a little thickly.

"Oh, the - -The first-time part. Being someone's ... you know ..."

"Yeah."

He didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate. But she couldn't see that he squeezed his eyes shut in the dark, like he was awaiting an inevitable blow. The shatter of the glass just dropped.

She had steeled herself against flinching too. "Right. I - -Okay." The effort not to move tensed everything instead.

He felt it.

A long breath losing its intensity on her skin as he drew back slightly, "Look, this isn't - -This -"

"No, it's fine," she cut in. "Really. I don't know why I - -I shouldn't've asked. And it's not like it should matter, and it doesn't, so I don't -"

"Rory."

Shifting up to look down at her. Watching the fleck of light in her visible eye go out as she blinked. And blinked.

Two eyes blinking as she turned her face only a few degrees towards him.

"This is different, alright?" he said. "I know you don't want that stuff to matter - -And, seriously, it doesn't. But _this _does." The hand firmer in the dip of her waist. "But you know that already. Or I - -You do, right?"

The almost imperceptible movement of her head made him sigh, sounding louder in the quiet as he slipped fingers round the elbow by her face. "C'mere."

She turned towards him, feeling her way up the length of his arm, and settled at clutching the taut roll of his shoulder. Biting the inside of her lips.

He skimmed the silhouette of her side a couple of times as he thought, hand-heel pressed on his temple.

"So listen," he said. "This - -It's ..."

And she was listening, deep into the pause as he watched his hand glide against her.

"I love you, okay? So it's that," he said, cryptic if it wasn't for the way his eyes fastened suddenly on hers. "First time for that, so ..."

The breath he'd held that drew his voice from somewhere higher in his throat came out until she stopped it. Barely time to smile, let alone laugh. Anchoring herself to him as the light feeling rose.

Rising more with the curve of his mouth.

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><p><strong>AN**: This could be an ending. Think of it like that if you like. There are probably others though. Or other stops along the road, maybe.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.


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